


Unsheltered Waves

by Anonymous



Category: Homestuck
Genre: A lot of angst first though, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Alternate Universe - No Sburb/Sgrub Sessions, Dystopia, Eventual Happy Ending, F, F/F, F/M, Final War, Freedom, Humanstuck, M/M, Plotty, Post-Apocalypse, Rating May Change, Rebellion, Scraps, Slow Burn, Slow Updates, Tags Are Hard, Tags May Change, a bunch of kids do a thing, a jumble of plot, everyone is like. barely 18, i mean what, lets all get an f in the chat for dirk strider, seriously, wow the government is lying ive never seen that plot before
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:33:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21903775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Throughout history, humans have been known to leave piles of mass destruction in their wake, unable to fix it. Sometimes, the pile got so large that humanity came on the brink of collapse. That's exactly what the Final War did. Wiped out 99% of all humanity and left them to die underneath the ocean, stuck with a corrupt government and back to square one.Karkat’s life has been, undoubtedly, exceedingly boring. Stuck in a boring office job, unable to do anything but fantasize about a different world. When he's not at work, he's stuck at home, yelling at a computer screen idly. Completely, utterly alone.Dirk’s life is the complete opposite. He's a scrap, made up out of the small fragments of someone's soul. Lost hopes, lost dreams, goals never accomplished, dreams never fufilled. He's spent his entire life in hiding, knowing only of his purpose; the motivation on which scraps are formed. Hiding from the Selective, the government, in hopes of not being discovered. Or, as the Selective puts it, "Some desires are forgotten for a reason."Dirk and Karkat's lives are different, but there is one thing that connects their paths;A need for a new start.And hell, if they’re going to get it.
Relationships: Calliope/Roxy Lalonde, Dave Strider/Karkat Vantas, Jake English/Dirk Strider, Rose Lalonde/Kanaya Maryam
Comments: 5
Kudos: 24
Collections: Anonymous





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> By god, that summary annoyed me so much aha.  
> I wrote 2x over the limit, whoops.  
> Anyways, an idea I had casually and I decided to write it.  
> The idea for a post-apocalyptic rebellion came from kxkka's work "Soulmates never die." Go check it out, I highly recommend it.  
> (It's Hamilton, not homestuck wfdsbjx)  
> Anyways, enjoy

**Chapter 1**

**=⇒ Karkat: Work**

The clock on the wall is much too loud. Almost painfully loud, as to remind everyone that if you’re not working and typing on your obnoxiously loud keyboards to drown out the clocks sound, you’re being unproductive. Which, in a sense, worked to its favour. Karkat Vantas was much more inclined to smash his keyboard than listen to the clock, anyways.

Every day, for 8 painful hours (which Karkat swore got longer by the day) he’s stuck in this boring fucking office, doing boring fucking work, on a boring fucking computer in a boring fucking life.

Or, in much simpler terms, a permanent headache with a toddler screaming fuck into your ear.

That’s what Karkat felt like right now, half an hour away from being able to ditch this pit of boredom and arrive home. Scream at his computer until his lungs hurt, continue to be lonely, eat some dinner, maybe even watch the news if he was desperate enough before collapsing onto his bed and falling asleep.

That’s the way it was. All day, every day. It made Karkat sick every day of his life because of how much of a straight fucking line he lived in. Everything around him was total bullshit, and if he had the chance, he’d stand on his computer right now, piss into a jar and claim it was apple juice, then ditch the underwater glass dome he’d been holed up in his whole life. Born here, raised here, will likely die here.

Karkat groaned, slumping back into the standard office chair and dragging a hand slowly down his face, unable to take this for a single second longer.

Selective be damned, if the threat of being killed wasn’t so high with this little underground rebellion going on, maybe Karkat would ditch work early.

But he did value his life, in a way. The smallest amount. He just. Knew he was going to do something of worth later on. He just didn’t know any logistics. No when, or how, or who, or what, or where. He just knew it was going to happen.

He just didn't know how.

Mirroring his actions with his own internal monologue, Karkat stared blankly at the computer screen, as if the longer he stared, suddenly the logistics of whatever the hell his life’s purpose was was going to reveal itself.

But that didn’t happen.

However, what did happen was the distant sound of people shuffling to get their stuff, signaling the workday was over and Karkat was, in a sense, relinquished of his duty for the day. 

He packed up his bags for the day, eyeing his empty work desk with distaste. Yet again, he had finished with the bare minimum. He was going to have to pick up the pace soon, or he would be flagged.

Karkat shivered. That was one thing he wanted to avoid at all costs. 

With a drawn-out sigh, he stood up from his office chair steadily, feeling his walking ability slowly return back to him after being without use for the past 8 or so hours. With a grunt and a frustrated growl only he could hear, he clicked off the computer screen from the power button on the back and reached down to grasp his bags.

Starting down the long hallway, along with everyone else, he quickly rounded a corner away from the crowd near the elevator, opting to take the stairs instead. He wasn’t near patient enough to wait for another half an hour for the elevator.

Eventually reaching the bottom of the building, he turned his quick walking pace into a slower one, stopping to look around the city. Of course, where he was located, you couldn’t see any of the dome walls. The dome itself was so supermassive that you could travel for hours from where Karkat was right now and still not reach the walls. While the super massiveness of the dome was a small relief to everyone feeling trapped in this glass bubble, the fact they were still trapped underwater still remained an unchanging fact.

Karkat, indifferent about water or no water, continued his previous pace, hurrying almost towards home, letting his legs glide him across the ground, and just completely emptying his mind from the useless information he very rarely gained at the corporation he worked at. 

The office hardly needed him anymore, he thought sourly, he was better off just being unemployed. Or doing pleasure jobs that were rewarded to productive members of society to do when they either retired, or too many spots were filled. 

Of course, even the selective, the harsh government it was, knew people needed pleasures to go about their day. But they were restricted to holidays. Meals more than necessary were for holidays, seeing family was for holidays, anything that was out of the ordinary in its levels of joy were for the holidays.

People here didn’t choose who they loved or what they did or grew up to be. It was all handpicked by the Selective according to who they were. 

Clearly, the Selective didn’t know him very well, Karkat interrupted his own internal monologue to add. Surely the Selective merely wanted him to lead an ordinary life after the actions of his father.

Karkat shuddered at the thought of his father.

He knew who he was, and he’d rather not be associated with his actions.

Everyone knew who  _ he _ , Karkat, was, actually.

But, before he dived into deep internal father issues, Karkat’s eyes thankfully slid onto his apartment building, looking over the garish building with distaste. Rubbing his hands down his face, Karkat approached the building slowly, sliding the key into the lock and opening the door.

Looking around expectantly, as if anything in his bland apartment would’ve changed, he was met with the same disappointment he’s always met when he opens the door to his apartment. The expanse of it all was tiny. As the selective is, everything served a purpose. The flowers on the desk were to scent up everything. The carpet was to prevent noise when others were sleeping. There was a certain amount of food in the fridge, all the time, and meals were the same for everyone. Nobody overate. Nobody underate.

That’s the way things were. And the way things likely would remain for a long time, until “Humanity is able to stand without a crutch.” 

With a scoff, Karkat dropped his keys lazily onto the desk near the door, and rounded a corner into the living room, where he dropped onto the couch and kicked off his shoes. Undoing his tie, he rested his head onto the back of the couch, feeling sleep nag at him gently. But, his stomach said otherwise. 

It wasn’t nearly time for dinner, but at this point? Karkat just. Didn’t care.

His life wasn’t nearly as enforced as others. People who are repeat offenders of the law. 

For the most part, Karkat kept himself in check. Unlike his father, he decided that a life by the Selectives standards might be worth a shot.

Now, he was reconsidering if what he meant by shot was an opportunity or something related to alcohol.

Obviously alcohol was illegal. It was one of the first nitty gritty parameter laws set up.

But, as all things, people, above all else, strived for pleasure for themselves.

Karkat scoffed and opened the locked fridge easily. Despite being an orphan most of his life, his father did manage a few essential tricks in before he was culled. Lock picking was one of them.

Easily, he grabbed the paper clip he stole from work and opened the fridge, seeing the food laid out in the fridge. Grabbing the plate with the sparse food, he closed the door again and locked it before the Selective got any alerts. Placing it into the microwave, he watched the food spin around lazily on the plate.

This was one of the more boring things about his life.

**=⇒ Karkat: Get Pestered**

Done eating, he lazily slipped the plate into the dishwasher, letting the automated system do it’s thing when he opened up his computer.

All employees of Skaia.net were provided a computer, where it was unlocked for an hour every day for browsing the web and chatting.

Of course, Karkat and his co workers figured out how to extend that time years ago, back only as teenagers. He himself didn’t actually do anything, just used the hack they created. 

Thinking about his life carefully while staring at the booting screen, Karkat thought about how many little breaches of laws he’s done in merely the past week. 

Maybe he really was like his father.

He shuddered at the thought and instantly banished it from his mind.

_ No,  _ he reasoned with himself,  _ I do everything the Selective asks, I only break the dumb laws that everyone else breaks anyways.  _

Terrible reasoning, he concluded, but it was enough to calm him down. 

The browser opened up shortly after the computer finished booting, and so did Trollian. The software that most used for chatting. Wherever the name originated, it was definitely older than the Selective itself.

Seriously. Made in 2009. That was centuries ago. However it was preserved and still running was honestly a miracle. 

**GC: H4H4H4**

Of course she was online. Of all people.

Karkat glanced to the side, his lips pressing into a thin frown.

He was terribly lonely, so this was better than nobody else.

**CG: WHAT DO YOU WANT.**

**GC: H4H4H4H4H4H4**

**GC: H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4**

**CG: I AM WASTING MY TIME OPENING MY HUSKTOP, OPENING THE BROWSER, OPENING TROLLIAN, LOGGING ON AND THIS IS WHAT I’M MET WITH.**

**CG: 4R3NT YOU GO1NG TO 4SK ME WH4T 1M L4UGH1NG 4BOUT**

**CG: NO.**

**CG: >8(**

**=⇒ Karkat: Tune in for the night**

Eventually, the clock struck midnight. With a single ding of his digital clock, Karkat lazily turned his glare to face the clock resting on the table. Normally, the clock would be on his bedside desk, but recently he’d been staying up till midnight more and more often. And if he was going to be productive enough at work to complete the day's bare minimum, he needed to head to bed at midnight or he wouldn’t be able to function tomorrow.

With a grunt, Karkat logged off his computer, or Husktop as he and some of his co workers called it, and closed the screen gently, sliding it onto the kitchen table, and grabbing his wireless alarm clock, intending to place it back by his bedside. 

Dragging his feet up the stairs, Karkat felt his mind lull itself to sleep long before his body even hit the mattress. With tired movements, he finally hit the bed tiredly, feeling sleep overcome him, and without resistance, he fell into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

**=⇒ Karkat: Wake Up**

The next morning flew by like any other morning. Karkat rolled himself out of bed forcefully, forcing himself to brush his teeth and take a shower, before lazily changing into work clothes and starting his usual walk to work.

He couldn't place it, but Karkat’s mind, while walking to work, wandered elsewhere. Instead of dragging himself through the day at work, he paused at a pedestrian crossing and looked around quietly, observing the many others doing the exact same thing he was. He blinked. 

"I'm one in several hundred thousands," he quietly whispered to himself. This was the first time had this revelation, though in hindsight it seemed quite obvious.

And that’s how he found himself dropping his stuff back at home, changing into more casual clothes as if he was granted an annual week off from the Selective thanks to over productivity, and started out of the apartment.

Closing the door behind him gently, he felt a fresh wave of wind blow past him.

Glancing the way where work was, he decided to follow the wind in the opposite direction, lazily gliding the other way, a way he normally doesn’t go.

His pace slowed gently, as he stuck his hands into his hoodies pockets. Karkat’s eyes wandered around the city for a second, glancing at people hurrying and driving and rushing to get to work, not stopping to observe the surrounding area. 

Karkat mentally scoffed, this wasn’t like himself, what was he doing?

But still, his mind drifted around the area, seeing stores he never saw before, walking by people he’ll likely never see again, spotting familiar faces he’ll see a thousand more times but never talk to.

His pace slowed to a slow walk, as he dropped his hands down to his sides, rolling up his sleeves, despite the constant freezing temperature resulting from being at the bottom of the ocean.

His eyebrows furrowed as he glanced around the area, feeling calmer watching the area.

That was, until a nagging feeling pressed in his mind. Maybe it was the fear of being flagged, or not being used to not working for so long. He may have been bored at work but he was at least doing something. Now, with nothing to do, maybe that was why the feeling grew stronger with each second.

Karkat nearly considering turning around and hurrying back. If he ran, perhaps he could make it back to work in time. But, just as the urge came, it subsided, as a stranger gently brushed past his shoulders. Not able to glance at his face, he saw the stranger's urgent walk, and stiff shoulders. He looked around him gently, and though Karkat couldn’t see his face, the man was obviously looking for something.

Or rather, someone.

As soon as that thought finished, a breeze whoosed past him in an orange blur, past the stranger now feet ahead of him. He saw the stranger visibly go rigid, before hurrying after the blur.

Then Karkat blinked, and both people were gone.

With a confused face, Karkat stood in the middle of the bustling crowd, hismind reeling. As people walked by him, they turned to stare at Karkat, but none of them turned to stare at the stranger, at the orange blur he had seen earlier. It was as if only he could see the blonde haired stranger, it was as if only he had seen the blur.

Shaking his head barely, he continued his walk, his pace rigid and his shoulders stiff, much like the strangers, but his walk was slower, careful.

Eventually, he rounded a corner and turned to face the glass of a familiar coffee shop he’d hang out in during his free periods in school.

Glancing through the window long enough, he shrugged and walked inside, waiting in line for a cup of coffee.

**=⇒ Karkat: Converse with the barista**

No, fuck that. The barista was well gone by the time Karkat had gotten his drink. Besides, his eyes fell onto a certain familiar stranger. One with spiky black hair and wearing an absurd amount of gold like always.

He barely tuned himself back into real life to hear the woman call his name for his drink. He grabbed the drink with a small thanks and started in the direction of the familiar stranger.

Glancing at his face, Karkat was instantly reassured he knew who this person was.

He slid into the seat across from Sollux with raised eyebrows and his coffee in hand.

“Didn’t think I’d see you out in public like this, beeman.” Karkat commented, offhandedly, when Sollux looked up from his husktop and scoffed. He looked a little startled through his eyes (if you could see them through those ridiculous glasses he always wore that made him stand out in a crowd.) but otherwise remained impassive, moving his hand back from going to roll down his sleeve, a bit of a tattoo marking that very distinctly could differentiate the difference between a scrap and a human. These rings were on the arm of every scrap, each ring signalling another year of life out of the exactly 200 years of life each scrap was granted.

Sollux himself was around 20, but he remained looking 18 and will remain looking 18 for the rest of his life.

He scoffed. “A2 iif you get out much more cr4bm4n. When’2 the last tiime you 2aw the 2un before today?” He remarked back. Karkat rolled his eyes and leaned back in the chair, sipping his coffee.

“Our conditions are different, in case you couldn’t tell, fuckass.”

“2ay2 the human.”

“Says the human, talking to the scrap.”

Sollux rolled his eyes and closed his husktop suddenly, quirking an eyebrow at Karkat. “Why are you here? 2houldn’t you be at work?”

Karkat shrugged. “Like I give a fuck about work anymore. What I do in there is fucking pointless.”

Sollux’s face twisted into a grim expression. “You’re goiing two get flagged at thii2 rate.”

Karkat scowled. “Flag me. See if I give two flying fucks. You of all people know about the Selective's bullshit.”

“Your own father wa2 culled for behaviiour liike thii2. Do you want to follow iin hii2 footsteps?”

Karkat grunted. “No. But he had a certain good fucking regard for his life that I sure as hell don't have.”

Sollux sat back in his chair slowly, observing the man. He said nothing, but the frown slowly forming on his lips said everything.

Karkat let out a deep sigh and placed his coffee down, sitting upright again, looking for topics to talk about.

“Any new coding things? What the fuck are they called- programs?” He asked suddenly.

Sollux looked a bit confused, before a light seemed to (metaphorically) appear above his head.  
“Ii’m workiing on 2omethiing about the sparse food ii22ue.”

“Just pick the locks on the fridge. It’s not that hard you dimwit.”

“Not everyone was raii2ed by the very person who managed two 2tart a rebelliion and liive two tell the tale for a whiile.”

“My dad was.” Karkat paused, not knowing what to say on the subject. “Someone.”

“Iindeed he wa2, but you cant iignore that he wa2 and 2tiil ii2 a biig part of your liife.” 

Karkat’s face darkened, as Sollux’s once had, as he glanced down at his hands, resting on the edge of the table. At this point, he had no care about being overheard.

Sollux seemed to understand the unspoken words in the air, because he quickly changed the topic once more. “Ii thiink ii’ve found 2omeone iinfluentiial to benefiit the cause of 2craps beiing part of 2ociiety.”  
“You’re still going on about that fucking idea?” It wasn’t meant to sound harsh, and Sollux knew Karkat just overused the word “fuck” a lot. He was likely one of the few that didn’t care.

“Iit’2 iimportant two me.”

Karkat sighed and ran a hand down his face. “Fuck, yeah, I know, I know I just. I cant shake this feeling off me all today. Like some shitstain went and took a piss on me but I dont fucking know where.”

“That2...an oddly 2peciifiic de2criiptiion.”

“Point is, I’m missing something really fucking important about today and I cant figure out what it is.”

“Maybe iit ha2 2omethiing two do wiith you 2kiipiing work?”

Karkat shook his head. “No, it’s not that.”

Sollux hummed and sipped the coffee Karkat just noticed he had.

He looked as if he was debating on saying something, but Karkat felt like he didn’t want to push it. Sollux, after the thought came, as if reading Karkats mind, backed out on whatever he was trying to say.

Obvious that there was nothing more to talk about between the two, Karkat stood up and pushed in his chair, grasping his half drunk coffee in one hand. “Okay well. I’m going to trace this fuckass feeling of shit back somewhere. Don’t fucking disappear on me again. And update me on any progress about the Selective. I may not give two flying fucks about scraps versus humans but I do give two flying fucks about whatever my dad’s legacy is doing to fuck shit up.”

Sollux nodded, opening his husktop again. “Wiill do. Oh, and Karkat?”

Karkat whirled around, from standing up and pushing his chair in. Sollux’s mouth twitched into a grin. “Don't get caught.”

“I won't, jackass.”

Sollux grinned, before it faded as he continued typing god knows what on his Husktop again.

=⇒ Karkat: Take a walk

Karkat sighed and strode towards the door, opening it with its jingle and slowly slipping out of the coffee shop, and glancing through the glass window briefly. His eyes flew over Sollux to someone else familiar in the corner. He looked as if he was someone from work, and he also had the same pale blonde hair the stranger in front of him on his way to the actual coffee shop had.

Karkat’s eyebrows furrowed, as he stood a few feet away from the coffee shop’s glass window, studying the man before he looked up. He had a feeling their eyes locked for a second, though Karkat couldn’t tell because of the sunglasses.

The stranger met his eye for a few seconds, before turning his gaze back slowly to his drink.

Karkat’s eyebrows only lowered, as he started walking forwards.

His eyes locked in front of him, as he forced himself to walk forwards, and ignoring the strange occurrences of the day.

Clearing his mind, he felt his heart beat against his chest, in his throat. The familiar lub-dub o the rhythm, aligning his carefully place footsteps onto the sidewalk with the rhythm. He sipped his coffee slowly, pushing down his worried pace and footsteps and slowing down to a carefully paced walk once he was out of sight of the coffee shop.

Then he heard it.

Hand on his empty coffee cup, hovering above the garbage can he was about to drop it into, his pace stopped. For a brief second, there was another pair of footsteps, before they stopped too.

But, as Karkat whirled around, there was nobody in sight.

Slowly, Karkat’s hand opened and allowed the drink to softly plop into the sidewalk garbage can, before turning back around cautiously and continuing his previous pace.

Was he being followed?

Karkat’s eyes drifted over his shoulder, only to find nothing once more and turning back forwards. Was he going crazy? Karkat shook his head. There’d have been telltale signs showing up long before if he was going crazy.

He gulped, slowly, and continued forwards, now only aware of the second pair of footsteps that were keping in rhythm with his. When he hurried, the stranger hurried up. When he slowed down, the stranger slowed down. They never missed a single beat.

Karkat’s heartbeat raced, turning corners frantically, trying on instinct to find a crowded area to hide in. 

Then, the stranger passed by him, bumping shoulder to shoulder and walking ahead of Karkat in a pace similar to his own.

Karkat slowed, breathing softly and gently, watching the stranger as he continued forwards. His heart’s hammering slowed, as Karkat himself slowed and followed the stranger idly. 

Maybe he truly was going crazy.

He breathed for a second. He really was going crazy.

Clenching and unclenching his fists, he continued the same way the stranger did, now in a less known part of the city. The more unpleasant apartments presided here, and go even further than this specific housing district, and you’d emerge into a rich neighbourhood surrounding the Dome’s exact center.

Karkat’s pacing followed evenly with the man, but unlike Karkat, this stranger didn’t seem to be fazed by the fact Karkat was (not so subtly) following him.

Karkat thought back to the stranger in the coffee shop, the same stranger he was following now. He’d seen him at work once or twice, and he worked on the same floor and building as Karkat, but unlike the other people he knew on his floor, he had no idea who this person was.

Scavenging through his poor memory to find an instant maybe when he heard the strangers name, anything telltale of who this person was. A last name would be very helpful.

He did find one thing, an unimportant memory of him talking with John.

_ “That’s pretty wack.” ? said, stuffing his hands in his pockets, as he eyed Karkat suspiciously through his sunglasses, barely visible. As Karkat shuffled into the building, only he, John, ?, and Terezi were there. Karkat had immediately went to Terezi, but did remember bits and pieces of their conversation. _

_ “Shut it Dave, you don’t know what good taste is.” John retorted. _

_ “My taste is way better than your Nicolas Cage taste-ass.” _

_ “Excuse you.” _

The memory faded quickly and Karkat furrowed his eyebrows, unsure about the Dave part, but it was better than calling this stranger-- Dave, Karkat corrected-- “Stranger” until he either found out his name or let him disappear. 

Now that he thinks about it, Karkat does vaguely remember some interesting thoughts with the stranger, and what he looks like.

Tall, blonde hair. Pale skin, and Karkat was 97% sure that Dave had freckles. Always had those damn sunglasses on, and he vaguely remembers him getting reprimanded once for wearing them indoors as if he were still in school or something. Everyone wore the same thing to work, but the Dave that Karkat was pursuing was wearing a plain white and red T-shirt with a leather jacket and some jeans that ended just about the ankles.

Karkat shook his head. Why was he obsessing over this dude? He was literally having a heart attack about being followed by this dude just a couple minutes ago.

Karkat fought off the flush slowly claiming his cheeks as he fought to not just round a different corner and stop pursuing this individual that had done nothing interesting to catch Karkat’s attention. Now that he thought about it, they worked in the same building. So why is it that Dave was not at work the day that just so happened to be the same day Karkat was ditching?

His mind flashed through several different excuses, each one more ridiculous than the last. 

He has to stop doing this, Karkat thought bitterly to himself.

Every once in a while, he’d find himself staring at some male from work, remarking about how they were cute or how he really despised the idea of matches. Matched the Selective handpicks, apparently someone that’s supposed to be like your soulmate. Someone perfect for you. Most people seemed happy with their Match, so Karkat never said anything.

He knew that it wasn’t normal. You know, liking someone that A) wasn't your match, and B) of the same gender.

Nobody said it, but you’d never see two men matched with each other, or two women.

Matches were given at age 24, and Karkat was only 18, so he had time. But that didn't mean he exactly enjoyed the idea.

With a heavy sigh, Karkat pushed the thought out of his mind, doing his best to ignore the fact that damn, this str- Dave, was, as much as Karkat hated to admit it, kind of attractive.

But, that didn’t change the fact that he was just following Karkat for a solid 5 minutes, scaring the life out of Karkat.

And look at him now, Karkat now following Dave, the other way around.

God, this day was insane and it wasn’t even noon yet.

**=⇒ Karkat: Continue to follow Dave**

Then, Dave rounded a corner into an alleyway, and Karkat’s pace slowed, coming to a halt as he heard hushed voices from said alleyway.

“Are you actually insane?”

“Dave, we can’t lead a rebellion without people knowing about it.”

“I know, but. That’s so dumb. What if you were seen.”

“I wasn’t.”

Karkat’s breath hitched in his throat, and before he could say or do anything, the voices stopped. He checked around the alleyway, to see what was going on, but the alleyway was barren, cobwebs in the middle, and no sign of anybody there.

Questions swarmed his mind.  _ Rebellion? Seen? _

He had to take a step back, and doubletake, observing the alley again before rounding the original corner, just a few feet forward and turning into the brren city center. It was surprisingly quiet and empty for the normally bustling center, and there was no sign of Dave and the other voice, but Karkat’s eyes drifted somewhere else.

The statue in the middle was graffitied with a simple sign.

A sign, of which its meaning he was very sure of. 

It was his father’s symbol. One that he had all over the house, the very one on the back of his husktop. 

The mark of the rebellion, like a 69 (heh) but rotated 90 degrees. 

Karkat’s breath hitched in his throat as he slowly approached the city’s square.

He was the only one there, as he approached the statue, and carefully observed it.

This… couldn’t be. 

The rumours of the rebellion? Were they real? Was his father still alive?

Questions swarmed his mind, like packs of animals hunting for answers. 

Well, he got one answer. The strangers name was in fact, Dave.

But.

But Karkat didn’t know what to make of this.

Overcome by the suddenness of the situation, he took a bold step forward. And another, and another.

Eventually, he was a few feet away from the statue. A very obvious statue, and easily recognizable, It was of the main 3 selective members, the one that built this dome and single handedly saved all of human life, the original Selective, before the Selective became a group of 15 individuals.

Spray Painted across the three people, whose names are still unknown to this day, was the Rebellion symbol.

A telltale symbol of his father.

But… it couldn’t have been Karkat’s father who did this. He was culled years ago. Besides, the voice in the alleyway did it, and that voice definitely didn’t belong to anyone of Karkat’s own bloodline.

Still, he couldn’t help his curiosity. His finger slowly traced the symbol, as he’d done millions of times idly across the back of his Husktop. The smooth, yet cold to the touch rock was a contrast to the simple materials everything else of the city was made of. His eyes locked with the symbol, then looked back into the eyes of these people who saved yet ruined humanity.

Legend has it, one of them was a scrap. 

But that’s only legend, and besides, even if one of them was a scrap, and it was proven, it would hardly do anything to the prejudice against Scraps.

His finger rested idly at the end of the symbol, when a harsh jerk on his arm pulled Karkat backwards. Karkat’s eyes ripped from the statue, to see the few people enter the city square as he was tugged backwards from the statue. Karkat grunted as he tumbled backwards onto his feet and glanced at the person who tugged him back. Dave.

Karkat’s brows furrowed, and then loosened as he took a few steps back of his own accord, as to not give off suspicion. 

Dave glanced around the square, as did Karkat. Everyone was staring at the graffitied statue, nobody had actually seen Karkat so up close to the statue, tracing the symbol fondly like he did it every day and saw it every day. Which, he did, but nobody needed to know that.

Dave hissed under his breath. “What the hell were you doing, man?”

“What the hell are you fucking doing, pulling me awy from the statue,” Karkat hissed back.

“Oh are we going to do this here? You’re lucky I didn’t let you keep staring at that symbol fondly like it was an old friend. People were half a second away from noticing you doing that dumb shit.” The words came out sharply, and Karkat merely grunted, continuing his watch around the square, and speaking in hushed whispers to Dave as everyone else was doing. Speaking in hushed whispers, he meant. 

“Why do you even care, you fuckass.” He replied back.

Dave paused and looked at Karkat directly in the eyes, through his sunglasses, of course, as a corner of his mouth turned up in a distasteful frown. “I’m saving your dumb ass and you ask me what my intentions are?”

“Yes.” He shot back.

Dave grunted and looked away. “Do you even know who you are?”

Karkat shrugged off Dave’s grip on his wrist and looked him in the… eyes? Sunglasses?? “Of course I fucking know who I am, I’m not amnesic.”

Dave dragged a hand down his face. “Not what I meant.”

“Well what do you fucking mean, then, jackass.” 

“Do you ever stop swearing?”

“Occasionally.” 

There was a pause in the conversation, but certainly no pause in gasps and murmurs around the crowd. 

“Is there really a rebellion?” Karkat wondered aloud, and Dave turned to look at him with a face that kind of translate into ‘are you serious dude.’ “Don’t give me that fucking look. Look, when my father was culled,” He paused and breathe for a second, “I had no fucking idea if the rebellion shriveled up and returned back to the hole from where it came with him or if someone else took over.”

Dave blinked. “Are you being serious right now.”

“I’m being 100% serious you withering fuck.”

Dave sighed and dragged a hand down his face. “This complicates things.”

“Complicates what.”

Dave didn’t respond, only glancing at the selective leaders bursting through the crowd, only 5/15 leaders (“leaders”) were here. Among them, one looked much older than the rest, and it was clear she was the actual head of the selective. Her face contorted into a scowl as she glanced at the sign, murmuring something to the others, before shooing everyone off.

Dave grabbed Karkat’s wrist again, this time a bit more forcefully, and dragged him out of the square. Karkat grunted. “What the hell is going on?”

Dave, once again, didn’t reply, only dragged him into the nearest alleyway, waited until everyone stopped walking by them and sighed, letting go of his wrist and running a hand through his hair. 

“Your father is the Sufferer, the rebel leader.” Dave explained, like this was new information to Karkat.

Karkat scoffed and rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. “No fucking shit, it’s not like my entire life I’ve been reminded of the fact, and how people can’t seem to stop reminding me who my father was. ‘Oh Karkat did you know your dad’s the rebel leader?’ Yes I fucking know, I’m not a dimwit. I can figure things out, and he wasn’t very subtle about being the leader while at home. Does your dumbcluck of an ass really think I don’t know this already? Well, I do. Thank you for the enlightening piece of information, you withering old grandpa.”

Dave snorted a bit, holding back laughter not so subtly. 

“Find that funny do you?”

“Yeah. That speech was the best thing I’ve heard all week, bro.” Dave snorted, calming himself down. His smile died back down into a frown. “So. You’re not in the rebellion.”

“Of fucking course not. Why’d I be here if I was?”

“Dammit.” Dave muttered. “I was going to ask if you knew anything about the rebellion.”

Karkat paused. “Like hell I know more than you do. Doing your weird disappearing in alleyways things, weren’t you just talking with another rebellion member?”

“Well, yes but-”

“Then why don't you ask him to be apart of their little council. I’m not fucking with things that aren’t to be fucked with.”

Dave’s frown deepened.

“Wait a fucking minute- how do I know you aren’t some selective member?”

“You listened to me talk with another about illegal activity and you’re really questioning that? How thick can you get?”

Karkat pinched the bridge of his nose. “You didn’t answer the question, fuckass.”

Dave scoffed. “Is this necessary.”

“Yes.”

“Bossy. Just like Daddy.” Dave replied.

With a growl, Karkat grabbed his collar and slammed him against the brick wall, baring his fangs that were a result of a specific mutation his father’s kind of Scrap had.

Dave grinned. “Feisty too.”

“Proof.” Karkat growled, before Dave’s grin etched back into a frown. 

“Fine.” He slapped Karkat’s hand away, and worked on taking off his jacket, so his arm would be shown.

On his left arm, lo and behold, just underneath the sleeve of his short sleeved shirt (What the fuck was this jackass doing with a short sleeved shirt miles beneath the ocean in a glass dome that disn’t make the living conditions any warmer, Karkat sourly thought to himself) were 18 faint rings. The distinct ones of a scrap, not some shitty tattoos. 

"Well, fuck me backwards without lube, you're a Scrap.” Karkat swore to himself, quietly.

Dave slid his jacket back on. “That enough proof for you?” 

Karkat scowled once more. “Why.” He merely asked.  
Dave quirked an eyebrow, “What?”

“Why? Why’d you do that back there?”

Dave shrugged, “You’re one of us, whether you like it or not.”

“I’m not my father.”

“No shit.” Dave replied.

“So what gives you the nook-licking idea that I’d want to join your little rebellion?” Karkat accused. He was leaning back into Dave's space, getting more and more riled up as Dave went on.

“What the fuck is a nook.” Dave gently pushed Karkat's shoulders back, not that Karkat noticed. No, Karkat was was fucking  _ pissed _ .

“Not the point.” 

Dave shrugged. “A hunch.”

Karkat blinked wearily. “You saved me on a fucking hunch.”

“You followed me and listened to me on a hunch.” Dave pointed out, his eyebrows raised.

“Our situations are different.” 

“I’ve heard that before today.”

“You’re a moron.”   
“Heard that before too.”

“How about you quit stalling for time and tell me the real reason.”

Dave’s eyebrows lowered,as he stuck his hands into his jeans pockets and leaned in close to Karkat’s personal space. 

“You may not like it, but the Rebellion watched you carefully. Those little transgressions you can get away with? That was the rebellion keeping you from getting fucking culled over lock picking the fridge because your father was the rebel leader. We know you too, Karkat. We’ve heard your conversations with Sollux, we know you. Whether you like it or not.”

Karkat blinked, then shoved Dave away. “Are you telling me you guys have been fucking stalking me for years now?”

Dave shrugged. “In a way. You’re not the only one.”

“That’s fucking creepy.”

“We’ve fucking saved your life several times now.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that you guys are watching my every move.”

“It kinda does though.”

“Shut it you fucking Scrap.” 

Dave's frown only deepened. “I’m offering you a chance to change the world.”

Karkat glanced over Dave, thinking carefully. “Who says I want to change the world?”

“You.”

Karkat scoffed. “I haven’t valued my life in fucking years, what makes you think you can barge into my peaceful life and mess all that shit fuck up, you insensitive piece of bulge-sucking trash.” 

Dave’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “You keep on repeating that like it’ll change the fact you can do something important.”

“What.”

“You said nearly the exact same thing to Sollux earlier. You went up to that statue like you didn’t care if you were shot on the spot. And yet, you say it like I saved you. From what? The dangers of the Selective or your own mind?

“Listen, we don’t know each other personally, hell, you can choose to never talk to me ever again after this but I need an answer.”

There was a pause. No, not a pause, a moment, a few minutes where Karkat said nothing. His

mind raced yet slowed down, its as if his mind was going a mile a minute but on mute. He couldn't say anything, didn’t know what to say. Go back to his boring life and do nothing? Continue in the footsteps of his father, and pretend like his life meant something? Miss a shot to do something great, or die trying? 

Dammit, even Dave knew he wanted more than anything to fucking  _ do something.  _ Not sit around on his ass while everyone else around him withered away, never even knowing of a life better than this one.

“You’ve got so much going for you. Don’t give it up now.” 

Karkat wasn’t even aware that it was Dave speaking, it felt more like his own thought process, fighting a war he already knew which side won.

He glanced at Dave’s outstretched hand and bit his lip, “I-"

Before Karkat could answer, a flash of orange sped past them, startling both him and Dave. Dave squinted his eyes. 

“That fucker.”

“What?” Karkat replied meekly.

He glanced at Karkat. “You in or not?”

Karkat hesitated. “Yeah. I’m in.” 

“Great, cause we’ve got a task.”

“What?” Karkt blinked.

“Yeah, catch Dirk before he goes off and does anything else dumb.” Dave started down the alleyway.

“Wait!” Karkat called.

“What.” Dave huffed, impatient.

“Who the fuck is Dirk and why are we playing catch the nook-sucker.”

Dave heaved a heavy sigh. “I’ll explain it on the way. For now, we’ve got a motherfucker to catch up to.”

Karkat grunted and chased after Dave, skidding out the alleyway and already chasing after the blonde, who himself was in pursuit of someone named fucking Dirk.

God fucking dammit, what had Karkat gotten himself into?

**== > Dave: Follow Dirk**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> adhsgv thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**=⇒ Karkat: Regret not paying more attention in Gym Class all those years ago**

"IS THERE ANY FORM OF INTELLIGENCE IN THAT APESHITTING BRAIN OF YOURS THAT TELLS YOU MAYBE RUNNING AFTER A CONVICTED CRIMINAL ISN'T THE WISEST DECISION??"

Dave skidded to a halt, somehow atop a building now, his heels digging into the concrete roof. How did he even get up there? What was the point of being on a building and all-around looking suspicious except for trying to get flagged? "Who said he's been convicted?"

"I STILL DON'T HAVE AN UGLY HORSESHITTING IDEA OF WHO YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT," Karkat paused to breathe for a second, suddenly realizing while he appeared quite healthy, he was indeed out of shape. "AND YOU'RE COMPLETELY AVOIDING MY," he paused again, "QUESTION."

Dave shrugged nonchalantly and skidded to a pause once more, as to not leave Karkat behind, since he seemed to be in well above average shape, despite his appearance. "You said the word, my man."

"WHAT-- WORD,"

"The 'Yeah I'm in,' words. The ones that are like a blood oath to like this pack you know? You signed a treaty with those words, signed the declaration of peace hundreds of years ago, you--"

"I GET IT. I MADE SOME SORT OF BRAINLESS OATH LIKE 5 MINUTES AGO, NOW ARE YOU GOING TO EXPL--"

"Shh!" Dave shushed abruptly. "You hear that?"

"I hear NOTHING right now. Are you seriously telling me that some part of your globetickling shitcrisp brain thinks there's a sound nearby? Because there isn't! God, I knew I shouldn't have caught myself up into more of this rebellion business! My father went and got himself culled for behaviour like this but look at me! Flailing my arms around like a grub on his wriggling day begging to be culled and trusting random scraps I see in dark alleyways and converse with for a solid half a se-"

"Shut up," Dave hissed, jumping down nearly silently, rounding a corner. Karkat grumbled to himself before running to catch up with Dave.

Rounding the same corner though, he was met with Dave standing in the middle of the empty pathway too, looking around almost frustratedly. Almost.

"Quite impressive, for someone not in the Rebellion." A voice called behind him. While Dave's tone was more inclined to be relaxed, this stranger's voice was a bit deeper, but rather a smoother tone.

"What the nimrod does that even mean?" Karkat whirled on his heels to face the voice. As partially suspected, a tall figure sat on the ledge of one of the shorter buildings, arms crossed. His hair stuck out in sharp angles and would look messy otherwise, but it somehow didn't. Like Dave, they both had pale blonde hair and wore sunglasses, sheltering their eyes from the sun. Karkat'd say it was a scrap thing had he not remembered his father did no such thing. Even so, the new figure's sunglasses were rather more pointy anime shades. Meagerly, he wore a black tank top and some jeans, making no effort to cover the rings on his arm, detailing his lifespan and cluing Karkat in that he was also a scrap.

"Your manner of speaking wouldn't be a dead giveaway to any random stranger on the side of the street, but any Rebellion member would be able to place those words to a meaning and indicate you were one of them. Truly, it's shocking you're barely aware of the Rebellions existence, even if you are the son of the founder himself."

Karkat blinked.

"What?" He seemed at a loss for words, for the first time in his rather short-lived lifespan.

"Grub? Respiteblocks? Slam Poetry? Hive? Prong? These words are all only and exclusively used by Rebellion members for the sake of code and indicating you're one of us in times of need."

"I haven't even said half of those today, how the vapid motherfucking nimshit do you know I say half of those fucking things? Who the fuck are you."

The stranger shifted a bit. Not uncomfortably, no. "Dirk Strider. Or, as you would likely put it "catch the nook-sucker." "

Oh.

Ooooh.

Karkat barked out a laugh, which only served to make Dirk quirk an eyebrow. "You're the unattractive footfucker this asshole has dragged me along to find and play catch up with?"

"I suppose so. If by asshole and pointing behind you towards air you mean Dave, who is now currently behind me."

"Sup bro," Dave replied curtly, crossing his arms as he stood behind his brother, bro, Dirk, whatever, and leaving Karkat astonished as to how that went down. Wasn't Dave just behind him- Wait, how did Dirk-

"I presume you have several questions, Vantas, Dave," Dirk responded, standing up nonchalantly.

"Just a few," Dave replied, arms still stiffly crossed across his chest.

“I imagine you do. Unfortunately, I’m too busy working on saving all of our asses and getting us out of here. Nice to catch up with you bro, but I’m afraid I have to go.” If you blinked, you would have missed Dirk flash stepping away at a pace that wasn’t human in any regard. But then again was he?

Karkat stood on the ground still, befuddled as he witnessed Dirk flash step away and Dave about to follow him before merely deciding it wasn’t worth it.

“Mind enlightening me as to what the flying hell just went down?” Karkat spoke, snapping himself out of his astonishment.

Dave’s face scrunches up a bit, and he could tell, even with those stupid sunglasses on all the time, that he was more than pissed at his brother.

“Earth to stupid bulge flinger, you still alive or should I get the Selective to declare yet another public scrap put down?”

Dave seemed irked by that comment but made no move to respond to it. “I’m going to let you in on a little secret.”

“Oh goodie. Another thing to add to the piling stack of lies I’ll have to make up. What is it this time? Are you a secret mermaid and you have gills on the side of your neck you can breathe underwater with? Maybe you’re a unicorn disguised as a human. But oh what would I know? I’m only a lowly human blindly following and trusting a scrap I met less than an hour ago!” Karkat yell-ranted to Dave, watching him jump down from the towering building he was standing atop of.

“Do you ever stop talking?” He hissed.

“Do you ever stop being fucking cryptic and tell people what the fuck is going on?”

Dave pauses and lets out an angry grumble. “Look, man, I’m only partially in the rebellion. I do their work, talk to some, but I’m a backup. Not yet allowed in. Dirk is in. He has some real fucking important stuff locked up in that head a’ his but he doesn’t tell me apeshit. You want to know what the fuck is going on? I wasn’t originally the one supposed to initiate you into the rebellion, that was supposed to be Sollux, of all people, but he didn’t do it. So I decided that if I was going to maybe get a slice of information in here, I might as well deem myself useful. Dirk knows now and only God himself can tell if he’ll say anything or nothing.”

Karkat blinked. “So you initiated me into possibly the most dangerous organization of my life, for your own personal gain?” He spat out. Dave turned to look back at Karkat, now down from the buildings. He had on a grim expression and the longer Karkat thought about it, those stupid sunglasses infuriated him. 

“You were going to get initiated anyways.”

“Yeah, by someone I fucking know, who, when were you going to tell me he was in the fucking rebellion? Huh?”

Dave grunted and fiddled with the handle of his sword. “When the time arose.”

Karkat threw his hands in the air. This whole day was a load of bullshit, he wasn’t having it. 

“Okay, you want to fucking know something? I don't want to join your stupid rebellion. I’m perfectly content living my life under the selective. I’m not going to insert myself into a narrative that isn’t mine.”

Dave’s face scrunched up into a scowl, “What so 30 minutes ago you were eager to start a new life and now you’re ditching us? Way to go dude.”

“Believe me I’m cringing at my past self too. It’s a mistake I retract. I’m not joining a rebellion that’d never going to work. I’m not going to end up like my father.” Dramatically, Karkat stomped away.

Man, way to change moods within the split of a second, Karkat thought sourly to himself. One minute he was eager to join the rebellion and stand up for what's right, the next minute his common sense finally latches onto him and does what he should’ve done what, an hour ago? 30 minutes ago? Whatever. He needed to get back to his Hive-- Apartment, he mentally corrected. 

With a hurried walking pace, he made it back to his apartment within 10 minutes, where he spent the next five minutes closing the door behind him and grunting. It was barely past 3pm but that wasn’t preventing him from taking a nap.

Today was stupid and crazy. He wouldn’t want to do that ever again.

**=⇒ Karkat: Contemplate your life**

It’s not like Karkat exactly wanted to contemplate his entire life instead of taking a nap, but he started that long winding trail of thoughts about his life. Then it was 3am, and despite what Karkat told himself 12 hours ago about taking a nap, he never actually got to take one. Instead, staring up at the ceiling and wondering if he made the right choice, here and there, if this was all bullshit, or if he really was wanted in this rebellion. 

He groaned and turned his face into the pillow, getting mad at it as if that would help.

Not to mention he’d likely be flagged tomorrow for not showing up to work. But right now, he really didn’t fucking care.

Glancing at the camera in the side of the room, he saw the same unmoved camera, staring into the corner of the wall. In the few friends he had left’s rooms, the camera was always wild, moving with the action.

His had stared at that corner his entire life. So did the other camera’s in the house. He always assumed it was his father who did that, but it seemed a farfetched idea, even for someone like him. Maybe the rebellion really did do all this for him?

Then his mind wandered to the topic of parents in general. Most kids were raised by not their biological parents, but their adoptive ones. Parents deemed fit to raise a kid. Which his father wasn’t. Whoever Karkat’s mother was, was beyond him. How he even ended up in this apartment, startled even Karkat. 

With a heavy sigh and a rub to his temples, Karkat slid himself out of bed and carefully walked down the stairs.

**=⇒ Karkat: Go downstairs**

He needed a drink, he decided.

Until he saw Sollux casually lounging on his couch, watching his Husktop with an almost bored look to his eyes, behind the stupid shades of course.

He suddenly needed at least two.

“What in the bitching shitmuffin are you doing here.” He replied, almost on instinct. Rather than looking startled, Sollux merely closed his Husktop and looked him in the eyes. 

“Wa2 wonderiing how long iit’d take for you two wake up.”

“How long have you been waiting here?”

“About an hour or two.”

“How the everliving bagshit did you even get in here?”

Sollux grinned and held up a paper clip. “Ii piicked your lock2.”

Karkat let out a harsh laugh, ripped from the back of his throat. “You’re a jackass.”

“2o ii’ve been told.”

Karkat paused. “Why are you here? At 3am?”

Sollux also paused. “Ii wa2 debatiing what to 2ay whiile ii waiited for you. Two be completely hone2t ii wa2 hopiing you’d wake up a biit later. Iin any ca2e, ii’m 2ort of here to follow up wiith your little meeting wiith Dave.”

Karkat grunted and walked into the kitchen, now displeased with where this conversation was going. “I’m not joining your stupid rebellion, Sollux. It was the hype of the moment that caused me to say Yes in the first place. My mistake, my common sense caught up to me.”

Sollux frowned. “How long have we been friiend2?”

Karkat paused, “A while. Since we-- well, I was-- in school.”

“How many year2?”

Karkat frowned, “5.”

Sollux nodded. “Do you remember? The fiir2t tiime you 2aw me? You knew ii wa2 a 2crap, but you diidnt 2ay anythiing. You weren’t prejudiiced about 2crap or no 2crap, you were ju2t a lonely hiigh 2chooler, a kiid who wanted a friiend. You diidn’t care iif ii wa2 your age or not, diidn’t care iif ii wa2 a 2crap or not or whether ii looked liike ii wa2 fre2h out of high 2chool, you diidn’t care, KK.”

“Yeah I know, moron. What’s your point in this?”

Sollux paused. “You tru2t me, riight?”

“Of course I fucking do what kind of a question-”

“Even iif iim in a rebelliion?”

“Yeah? What you do with your life, scrap or whatnot doesn't matter to me. It's your life, not mine.”

“Do you want to know, why ii joiined the rebelliion? When ii wa2 ju2t a kiid, barely able to surviive on my own, why ii diid iit?”

Karkat went silent, but Sollux continued. “Becau2e ii wa2nt ju2t fiightiing for my2elf, ii wa2 fiightiing for many other 2crap2 liike me. Ii wa2 fiightiing the 2electiive, they may have 2aved us at a poiint iin tiime, but now they’re only kiilliing. Kiilliing 2crap2, kiilliing people who want to liive a life.

“KK, The rebelliion ii2nt thii2 2tupiid chiilii2h game you 2eem to beliieve we are. We’re fiightiing two keep everyone aliive.”

Karkat said nothing, only continued to stare into his fridge. Sollux halted, glancing at Karkat. “KK, the 2electiive ii2 planniing 2omethiing akiin to a ma22 genociide of the unworthy.”

If Karkat was able to go paler then he already was, he would. Despite his dark tanned skin, Karkat’s skin probably looked akin to the colour white at this point. 

“How… how do you know this?”

“Do you remember when ii told you, ju2t ye2terday about gettiing an iinfluentiial member to benefiit the 2crap2 cau2e?”

Oh, he fucking did not. “You didn’t.”

Sollux grinned half-heartedly. “Ii diid. We have the daughter of the 2electiive2 leader on our 2iide.”

“Holy crap how did that come about?” Karkat replied, closing the fridge and turning to look at Sollux, finally flipping the light switch 

“Uh,” For the first time since Karkat had entered this shitfest of a day, Sollux flushed and turned away. “Well, you 2ee…” Karkat glanced at the couch.

Sollux sighed. “2iit down.”

**=⇒ Sollux: Get flat out drunk.**

The bar’s strobe lights pulsed brightly, not helping Sollux’s already degrading eyesight. Glasses clinked around him, drunken cheers filling the air. 

In Sollux’s little corner, computer clacks sounded loudly and quickly. A shot glass filled halfway with beer sat untouched on the table in front of him. His brown pupils were blown, showing how completely jacked he was.

He was so out of it, he didn’t notice the tinkling of the door as it was pushed open or the woman that stepped through. 

**=⇒ Feferi: Shut down an illegal bar**

Feferi stepped through the door, and into hell.

Okay, maybe not hell, but close enough! What was this? She could count at least 15 infractions, and maybe even more glubbing violations!

“) (oly-” She muttered to herself. “If this isn’t the s) (adiest t) (ing I’ve been in since the days of the Sufferer!” She thought, exasperatedly. When the selective asked her to check on an establishment, she didn’t expect such a shady place! 

She scanned the place, checking for a person both drunk and unguarded enough to spill about this place. Her eyes caught on a figure in an unobtrusive corner, typing away madly on an outdated computer. 

Well then.

She slowly made her way over to the corner, stopping to buy a drink. She might need her informant a little more willing to open up, and she wasn’t taking any chances. The liquor swirled in the glass as the hulking bartender slid it across the table; it almost shimmered in the light. Feferi blinked. 

The glass clanked as she set it down. The figure looked up, and Feferi caught her breath. It was a male. He had honey-brown eyes, that were half-covered by . . . red and blue glasses? His hair was pitch black and stuck up in the back. It looked soft. Feferi wanted to touch it.

Focus! You ) (ave a job here.

Feferi put on her best ‘Interested customer look,’ and smiled. “) (ello.” She started curtly. The stranger looked up from his computer and scanned Feferi for a second.

“Well, diidn’t realii2e people that look liike they have a place iin liife 2howed up to bar2 liike thii2 one.” He was completely drunk off his arse, Feferi concluded without much thought into the matter. However, the slight lisp in his voice wasn’t likely a part of the alcohol. It sort of sounded natural on his voice. 

“Well, life gets boring sometimes, you know?” She smiled politely and sat into the stool next to him. “W) (at brings you here?”

The stranger shrugged and glanced at his computer once more before turning back to her. “Depend2 from day to day. 2ometiime2 ii ju2t can't handle the 2tre22 of liife, 2ometiime2 ii ju2t need to forget. You know?”

Unfortunately, Feferi did. What, with her mother being the head of the selective and all. But most citizens lived a relatively stressless life, what was this guy on about? What was his name, even?

“I totally forgot- W) (at’s your name?” Such an innocent question that could land this poor guy into jail. 

“Iit’2 2ollux. And your2?” Shit, Feferi thought. Even if he was drunk off his arse, people around them weren’t. Plus, drunk or not, her name would spark a memory. She had to think about this. 

“It’s…” She paused, not exactly used to this. Usually, when she walks in, everyone instantly drops everything and runs. But people here were too busy to notice her, and Sollux here was blackout drunk. She could just use the name of one of her friends, she thought. Yeah, Feferi decided that'd work well enough. 

“It’s Kanaya,” Feferi replied.

“Kanaya, huh? Ii u2ed to know a Kanaya. Are you her?”

Feferi internally started to sweat a little, though releasing it was totally useless since she was a selective high official. Nothing this guy could do would do much to her. Plus, the gun in the back of her boot was there for a reason. “I’m sure I would remember if I met you before.” 

Sollux nodded, scratching his arm a bit. “So Sollux, w) (ere do you work?”

Sollux turned pale. A reaction only scraps have. Because most scraps don't work, most aren’t trying to blend into society.

Feferi, cautiously glanced at the sleeve Sollux was pulling down now, trying to be discrete but wasn’t exactly doing a very good job of. Sure enough, before he pulled his sleeve down, Feferi caught sight of some blank rings.

Gotcha.

“Oh uh, 2kaiia net,” he replied. Feferi rolled her eyes internally.

“Same as pretty muc) ( everyone t) (en, ) (u) (?” She replied sweetly.

Sollux looked on the verge of puking. “Yup. 2ame a2 pretty much everyone…”

And that was when he slammed his laptop shut and made a run for it. Feferi grabbed the gun out of her boot and chased after him. Scraps couldn’t be killed by a bullet, but they could be injured. Sollux slammed the side exit of the bar open and ran out. Dashing out after him and into a dark alleyway, Feferi screamed. “Freeze!”

Sollux screeched to a halt, putting his hands in the air steadily, his back facing her. “'Planniing on u2iing that gun on me? Iit won't work.”

“I know,” Feferi replied curtly. “But it certainly does a good job of injuring scraps, if you can’t kill t) (em.”

Sollux gulped quietly. Fuck, he was in deep shit this time.

**=⇒ Sollux: Try not to panic.**

Try not to panic? Try not to panic?! Sollux was far beyond panicking at this point, already accepting his inevitable fate of death. Hey, he never finished his core purpose. Maybe whatever stupid scrap biology there was in him would allow him to be revived until he could?

Damn, he didn’t know shit about his own kind, Sollux reasoned inside his own mind, before remembering 'riight yeah, there’2 a woman wiith a gun on me riight now. Niice okay thii2 ii2 great.'

“Feferi Peixes,” The woman you thought was “Kanaya” replied. “Selective ) (ig) ( official, I assume you know about the selective?”

Sollux paled even further if that was possible. He was in bigger shit than he thought possible, but once again he achieved the impossible. “Yeah. Ii know about the 2electiive. Been runniing from them my whole liife, how could ii not?”

“) (ow come you didn’t recognize me t) (en?”

Sollux bit his lip. “Good que2tiion. Gue22 ii’m a biiger iidiiot than ii thought ii was.”

The woman behind him seemingly scoffed, but Sollux was too preoccupied listening to the sound of his own heartbeat ram against his ribcage. 

Shit, if only AA was here. She was the one who converted people to their cause, not Sollux, she was the one who was good at talking people over. 

“Not going to say anyt) (ing, t) (en?” Feferi replied.

Sollux shook his head. “Not much, ju2t a few thiing2.”

“Make it quick, I’ve got ot) (er plans for t) (is bar, you know.”

“Yeah yeah ii know you do. Biig hiigh rankiing offiiciial and whatnot. Ii iimagiine iit mu2t be 2o hard liiviing wiithout the threat of beiing culled on 2iight. Really, 2uch a traumiitii2iing liife you have.”

“If t) (is is ) (ow t) (is conversation is going to go I might as well just s) (oot you rig) (t now.”

“No, ju2t a miinute ii 2tiill have a few fiinal words before ii’ll be sent iin to be burned.”

Feferi didn’t say anything, giving Sollux the cue to talk. 

“Ii ju2t have a que2tiion.”

“Yes?”

“Why are 2crap2 beiing culled.”

“T) (ey’re a t) (reat to so-”

Sollux cut her off, “Ye2 ye2 a threat to 2ociiety but what exactly have ii done that’2 2o illegal be2iide2 exii2tiing. Ii mean, thiink about iit. You diidn’t even know my name or that ii wa2 a 2crap a couple miinute2 ago. Thii2 ii2 the fiir2t tiime anyone2 caught me at a bar, 2o ii'd be let off wiith a warniing had you not fiigured out ii wa2 a 2crap. 2o tell me, what have ii done?”

Feferi stayed quiet.

“Ii2 exi2tiing iillegal now? Am ii beiing punii2hed for exii2tiing?”

“Okay I t) (ink that’s eno-”

“No ii’m not done.”

“Well, I am.” Feferi took a few steps forward, the gun clicking.

“Wait!” Sollux shouted, a bit desperately. Feferi grunted.

“W) (at.”

“Have you ever really thought about iit? 2crap2?”

Feferi paused.

“Exactly. How many of the majour problem2 to the 2electiive are 2crap2?”

“The rebellion causes quite a f-”

“Exactly! The rebelliion, not 2crap2.” 

Feferi continued to be silent. “Ii’ve 2pent my entiire liife runniing from people that wiill cull me for merely beiing the way ii am. When we fiirst moved underwater, be2iide2 e2capiing corrupted Earth, one of the fiir2t rule2 2et iin motiion wa2 that everyone wa2 to be giiven equal chances, equal oppurtuniitie2. A new Earth wiithout the prejudiiced past of the last one. Iit 2ounded liike a paradi2e, at fiir2t, untiil the rule about no 2crap2 allowed to liive was iin2iitated, then we 2ort of broke the fiir2t rule our2elve2. The 2electiive wa2n’t giiviing everyone equal oppurtuniitiie2, iit 2tarted to become rather than a government that allowed the people to liive agaiin iin a new Earth, iit became a place where iif you diidn’t fiit the iideal ciitizen, or were human, you were culled on 2iight.”

“We’re repeatiing the hii2tory of our planet agaiin. In2tead of women and people with diifferent coloured skiin, or people of diifferent reliigiions or ethniitciitiie2, iit’2 now 2crap2. For what rea2on other than the fact that we have a goal iin liife. 2crap2 aren’t moral-less, you know. We try to fiind the best way to achiieve 2aiid core purpose, usually wiithout harmiing many iif any at all. And we have outliiers, 2crap2 wiithout moral2, but so do human2. 2o ii a2k agaiin, why am ii about to be culled? Ii really want to know.”

Feferi seemed stunned into silence, only taking a step back.

Sollux pressed. “Well?”

Feferi merely blinked and lowered her gun. “I-” What the hell was she doing? She should be shooting this guy for disrespecting the Selective like that. But… as much as she hated to admit it, this guy made a very valid point.

“) (ow many times ) (ave you t) (oug) (t about t) (is?”

Sollux shrugged, his hands sagging a bit from being held in the air for so long. “Ii’ve had 20 year2 two thiink about thii2. 

Feferi sighed, placing her gun to her side in case she needed to shoot. “W) (at were you doing at an illegal bar, anyways?”

Sollux shrugged. “Liike ii 2aiid. 2ometiime2 ii need to get away, 2ometiime2 ii ju2t want to blend iin. Today ii ju2t needed two get away.”

Feferi sighed.

“I ju2t 2at and diid 2ome work, tryiing to forget the day.” Sollux continued without being prompted.

“W) (at kind of work?”

Sollux sighed and dropped his hands, turning to face her. “2tuff.”

**=⇒ Future Sollux: Sit in a cafe and work**

Fuck that, Sollux proclaimed in his mind, sitting down at a cafe table and spotting a familiar face ordering some coffee at the front desk. Now two weeks since he was on the verge of being culled, he had yet to see Feferi again.

Well, now he saw her.

She slowly walked towards the end counter where her drink was slid towards her, having been made first above all orders, just because of her high position. High officials get little quirks like that, stuff they probably don't notice but others do. Instead of the black dress, she was wearing that night at the bar with high heels, she instead donned some jeans, a black turtleneck and some worn-out shoes. If people didn’t acutely know she was a selective member, you would never be able to tell by the casual clothes she was wearing.

She slouched against a counter and sipped her drink, her eyes falling on Sollux, lingering there for a moment before she sighed and strode over to him, sliding in the chair next to him.

“Got caug) (t doing anyt) (ing more illegal or was our last encounter enoug) ( to s) (ake you?” She smiled gently at him, an almost sweet smile. Sollux rolled his eyes.

“Well, ii diidn’t get caught, can’t exactly 2ay anythiing about the illegal part,” He was grinning, meaning Feferi to take it as a joke, which she did. 

The rebellion was the highest class of illegal there was, so technically yeah he was being really fucking illegal since they had a meeting just yesterday.

“So no more coaxing ot) (er selective ) (ig) ( officials into t) (inking about somet) (ing t) (ey’ve never t) (oug) (t of before?”

Sollux’s grin faltered for a moment. “What?”

Feferi’s smile also dropped the slightest bit. “I’ve… spent some time t) (inking about w) (at you said.”

Sollux blinked. Did she really just- Wait just a second.

“What, about 2crap2?”

Feferi nodded and dropped her voice. “I know, it’s really glubbin’ close to ) (ig) ( treason for me to disrespect the Selective like t) (is, but…” She sighed. “I know w) (at goes on be) (ind closed doors t) (ere, it isn’t pretty. Most say it’s tyrannous.”

Sollux nodded slowly.

“I agree.”

Sollux choked on his coffee a bit. “Are you admiitiing the selectiive ii2 planniing what, a ma22 genociide or 2omethiing?”

Feferi nodded, wary of the strangers around her.

“Why are you telliing me thii2?”

Feferi sighed. “I don't really know. But it’s been way too long since I got to glub about w) (at the selective does.”

“Can ii a2k you a que2tiion?” Sollux pressed quietly. Feferi nodded.

Sollux held out his hand. Feferi blinked at it and he sighed. “Ju2t giive me your wrii2t for a 2econd.”

Feferi, hesitantly held out her wrist. Sollux’s hand hovered gently above her wrist, maybe a millimetre above, but it was enough. “Do you actually want to be apart of the 2electiive or are you only iin becau2e of the Hiigh Leader?”

Feferi hesitated, her pulse quickening a bit. “I’ve always wanted to work in environmental control, not as a leader or anyt) (ing, just as regular ordinary person job.”

Sollux nodded. “Are you 2pyiing for the 2electiive riight now?” 

Feferi’s brows crunched in, a look of almost disbelief crossing her face before she reasoned with herself that it was natural for him to assume this. “No.”

Her pulse quickened a bit, but Sollux didn’t falter, he pulled his hand away.

She wasn’t lying.

**=⇒ Present Day Sollux: Explain some shit to Karkat.**

“Wait just a motherfucking second,” Karkat interrupted, “How did you know she wasn’t lying? Seems a little implausible, she could be a really good liar.”

Sollux sighed and rubbed his forehead. Had the Sufferer really not explained to Karkat anything about scraps? “Mo2t 2crap2 have certaiin abiiliitiie2 pertaiiniing to theiir core purpo2e. Miine ii2 liie detectiing, Dave and Diirk2 are 2peed. Etc.”

Karkat blinked. Really, did his father not clue him in on anything? “So when Dave and Dirk were chasing each other at something equivalent to a horses supersonic gallop, that was-”

“Theiir 2crap abiiliity, ye2.”

Karkat’s mind reeled for a second. “That makes a lot more fucking sense.”

“Yeah. Diid your father clue you iin on… anythiing pertaiiniing to the rebelliion or 2crap2.”

Karkat’s face fell a bit. “I was 6 when he died. He didn’t tell me jack-shit.”

Sollux nodded, slowly. “Oh.”

There was a pause in the conversation. “Well?” Sollux spoke up, finally.

“Well what?”

“Changed your miind on totally diitchiing the rebelliion cau2e Dave ii2 a jacka22?”

Karkat snorted slightly. “I’ll think about it.”

Sollux grinned. “Well, iif you change your miind, you know where to fiind me.”

Karkat nodded as Sollux went to the door. Sollux was halfway out the front door when Karkat shouted, “Wait!”

Sollux turned around and glanced at Karkat around the corner in the hallway. “What ability did my dad have?”

Sollux sighed and stepped back into the doorway. “Iit’2 a long 2tory, do you really want to hear iit?”

“Well I’m half a nookmunching shiteating second from falling asleep so condense it for me.”

Sollux shrugged and leaned against a wall. “Your father wa2 a 2crap wiith no abiiliity, 2iince he had 2o many core purpo2e2 and 2o much to acheiive, apparently hii2 biiology couldn't ju2t piick one abiiliity and went wiith nothiing in2tead,” Sollux paused, “However, at 2ome poiint after makiing the rebelliion, a2 he put iit, 2omethiing changed. Liike hii2 core purpo2e...2hiifted from thii2 jumble of a to do lii2t he u2ed to have to an ultiimate goal now. To get everyone out of the now corrupt area we liive iin. 2iince hii2 core purpo2e changed, he 2lowly found out he gaiined a new abiiliity. A 2ort of pre2ua2iive tongue, one that when 2poken could get anyone to agree wiith you, to get people to do what you wanted, get you out of tough 2iituatiion2, the lot you could ba2iically do anythiing wiith them. Iit diidn’t work on 2crap2 or people of hiigher power, a2 we found out, but that wa2 liikely due to lack of practiice, 2iince he only got the abiiliity 2 year2 before he wa2 culled.’

Karkat found himself at a loss for words, a difficult thing to achieve from him, but somehow it happened. “How the everliving flipshit do you know this?”

“Ii overheard The P2iioniic and The 2ufferer talkiing. They were clo2e friiend2 and told each other everythiing, and ii wa2 a no2y kiid.” Karkat nodded, slowly, drinking in this new information. Sollux wondered if he should hit him with some crucial information that might change his life.

He looked at the poor kid and decided against it. He’d find out if he was ever in danger or when he joined the rebellion if he did.

He was going to find out sooner or later, anyways.

Sollux nodded at Karkat. “Well, ii’ll get goiing then. You know where two contact me iif you change your miind.”

Karkat nodded, slowly. “Yup.” Was all he said meagerly. 

**=⇒ Karkat: Get pestered**

Who the hell would be pestering me at 3 in the morning, Karkat thought bitterly, a chime on his phone alerting a new message from Trollian.

Dammit, universe, Karkat internally cursed.

He only had a few friends on his message roll. Most notably, Terezi, Sollux, Gamzee (who hadn’t replied to any of his trolls in well over 2 years) and a new person. Said person’s text was red, and they spoke in complete lowercase, unlike Karkat, speaking in complete uppercase.

TG: calmed down after you threw that tantrum

CG: WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU.

TG: no need to be so aggressive little man

CG: I AM NOT BEING AGGRESSIVE NOR AM I A LITTLE MAN, YOU LUMPING BITCHING ASSWAD. SO UNLESS YOU WANT TO EXPLAIN WHO THE FUCK YOU ARE I THINK WE’RE DONE HERE

TG: you’re right, you’re just an angry little man. 

CG: ALRIGHT I’M NOT TALKING TO A TOTAL DOUCHEBAG

TG: fine jeez gotta ruin the fun now do you

TG: it’s dave

TG: dave strider

CG: WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU CONTACTING ME

TG: what cant a man check in on his homie

GC: I AM NOT YOUR “”HOMIE”” SO GET THAT INTO YOUR BRAIN YOU SHITCRISP, SECOND OF ALL YOU’RE WASTING MY TIME CONTACTING ME SO UNLESS YOU WANT TO TELL ME FUCKING ANYTHING THAT’S GOING ON I MIGHT AS WELL CONTACT SOLLUX FOR ANY INFORMATION THAT MIGHT BE OF USE.

TG: oh yeah did the bee guy talk to you yet or has he yet to jump through your window to try and reclaim you to our cause

CG: WE ALREADY TALKED, YOU BLITHERING WHINING DICKWAD. AND IT WAS A CONVERSATION THAT ACTUALLY WAS USEFUL, UNLIKE THIS ONE RIGHT NOW

TG: do you like have an off button or something or are you always this angry

CG: NOT TO DISAPPOINT OR ANYTHING BUT IM PRETTY SURE IT’S JUST YOU.

TG: aw im special

CG: DO YOU HAVE ANYTHING USEFUL TO SAY OR CAN I GO BACK TO MY RESPITEBLOCK

TG: spoken like a true rebellion member

CG: OKAY I THINK WE’RE DONE HERE

Before Dave had a chance to reply, Karkat shut his Husktop and placed it onto the table in front of his couch. He sighed and slumped into the cushions, thoroughly exhausted already, and it proved to be quite an effort to drag himself up to his bedroom. Once collapsing onto his bed, though, he fell asleep easily. 

**=⇒ Dirk: Figure out how to get into the Selective.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a hot minute huh  
> I'M ALIVE!!  
> Anyways, I'll try to update more regularly now that school (for me at least) is starting to ease it's workflow a little.  
> Thanks for reading, and as always, see you in the next update!
> 
> (P.S ignore the second note, I cant figure out why AO3 is doing that ,,, , ,)


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**  
**Warning: Semi-Graphic Depiction of Death**

**=⇒ Dirk: Figure out how to get into the Selective**

Dirk grumbled. “I’m working on it.” He muttered aloud, now dropping his stuff onto the couch in the small apartment he presided in.

Okay, more like forced someone else out of, but that’s beside the point. 

With a plunk, he threw his jacket away and flopped onto the couch, taking a moment to breathe in the fresh air wafting from the outside window, air escaping his lungs rather languidly as he relaxed. 

When Dirk opened his eyes again, however, he was met with the same disappointing view of the cluttered apartment. The walls were tarnished and peeling, the floors were worn and the carpets were in desperate need of a clean. Across the kitchen, which was just in front of the living room, papers stood everywhere, pieces of the puzzle Dirk had gathered over the years. Trying to solve and crack the code of the Selective.

14 years, and yet still nothing. Dirk heaved a heavy sigh and forced himself off the couch, striding carefully to the kitchen to pick up the stray papers, lifting gently in the calm breeze. 

Shuffling them onto the counter, he spread them out again in one fluid motion, watching the papers connect in some places, and watched some have huge bits of information missing in between pages. 

He sighed and placed his shades down onto an empty spot on the counter, scanning the papers for what may be the hundredth time by now, as if anything would have changed. It told the same story of the Selective that people used to know. 

Dirk’s fist clenched in a result of pent up fury. The Selective was supposed to be a government built to save all of humanity, not going to be the government that destroyed it.

What were they hiding, was the age-old question not even the extensive network of spies the rebellion had could figure out. 

Dirk clicked his tongue frustratedly. Without the missing pieces of the puzzle, it didn’t fit quite right. Everything seemed scattered, and not much made sense. Whose brilliant idea was it to write these on scroll paper, anyways?

With a glance out the window, he saw the lights on the streets flickering out. How the hell the Selective managed to filter in sunlight and moonlight through the ocean at this depth was beyond him.

A pause, then an idea flickered into his mind like a broken lightbulb. All too quickly there was a pen between his fingers and scribbled in the margin of one of the scrolls a little note.

“Selective using Scraps for their abilities, culling the useless or the rebellious ones?” 

The tip of the pen clicked off as Dirk stared at the note for a moment, the ink still drying. It would make sense, how they got sunlight and moonlight down here, not to mention the resources needed to maintain a civilization down here. Perhaps they used Scraps to generate these things. Willingly or not.

It also wouldn’t be above the Selective to do such a thing.

Dirk’s gaze hovered on the fresh ink, before stepping away from the counter.

Certain that he’d had enough for the day, Dirk flopped onto the weathered couch in the living room, only a few paces away and let his mind drift off to a peaceful sleep.

~

Now that he thought about it, the sunlight in the morning seemed much too harsh to be natural. At least, that’s what Dirk assumed, anyways. That could just be him. Dirk moved a hand out of the way of his face, squinting at the window letting in the harsh sunlight as his eyes scrambled to adjust themselves to the burning rays of light. 

Dragging a hand down his face, he pushed himself off the couch and made his way rather lazily to the fridge. With a sharp tug and looking through it, he saw the same sparse food issue he’d been dealing with since the last time he went out and actually bought food.

There was no Rich and Poor in these parts. Actually- anywhere. You went to work not to get money, but to keep yourself from getting culled. Everyone got a sum of money each month, enough to get food and water and the like. 

Of course, that was if you were a registered citizen.

Dirk, of course, was not.

Going out in public as a scrap itself was extremely dangerous. 

With a sigh he slammed the fridge door closed, letting the bare bones contents of the fridge rattle inside for a second before he made his way to his laptop.

Christ, he never thought he’d have to do this again.

TT: Rose.

TT: Yes?

TT: I need a favour. 

TT: If you are requesting yet another Fake ID I can assure you I don’t have any more.

TT: No, I need some money.

TT: What for? 

TT: Food, Water, the basic materials the human and scrap body needs to function properly. Unfortunately, as an unregistered citizen, I don’t receive any monthly sum of money. I’m sure you’re well aware of that.

TT: I am. How much do you require?

TT: Enough to get by for the next month. I expect you’ll be hearing from me again next month with the same case.

TT: I can provide a suitable amount this month, but I cannot speak for next month. Perhaps you can try pickpocketing a few strangers for “spare cash”? You have the speed, I doubt it’d be a difficult pursuit for you.

TT: I’m not a thief, Rose.

TT: No, but you are a scrap.

TT: Are you implying scraps are thieves?

TT: No, but the environment the Selective has maintained for any scraps not blending into society are rather harsh. Even those blending in need to go to some extremes to merely survive. 

TT: I’m merely suggesting that you might need to resort to some extremes in extreme situations.

TT: By not many means is the environment I live in classified as “extreme”.

TT: You cannot even go outside without the fear of being culled, Dirk.

TT: I’ve grown accustomed to it.

TT: You shouldn’t have to.

TT: I’m not exactly asking for a life evaluation. If you have some spare money, I’d greatly appreciate it if you could loan me it. If not, then I’ll ask someone else.

TT: I will loan you some cash, but with my sickness causing me to miss workdays, I don’t know if I will have any extra money to give you next month if I’m even spared enough for myself.

TT: I’ll head over to the bank and make a withdrawal. I expect you’ll be meeting me at my apartment?

TT: As usual.

TT: Thank you.

TT: Of course.

Dirk shut his laptop, banishing any lingering thoughts of resorting to stealing from his mind. He stood up from the couch and made his way to the doorway, slipping on his worn shoes and jacket over the bare tank top he wore as to keep from freezing or overheating.

Another thing they shouldn’t be able to feel underwater but again, the Selective.

He opened the door and made his way down the apartment floors carefully, nearly no residents presiding in these parts. He clicked open the door at the front and slipped outside, walking down the bare streets before starting his journey onto a nearby balcony, flash stepping from balcony to balcony, slowly moving into the more populous areas of the city, slowing down once he reached close to Rose’s apartment. He jumped onto her balcony on the third floor to find it unlocked, as always and slipped inside.

The whole place was a mess. Any sane individual would take Rose as the clean organised type, but her apartment was almost as bad as Dirk’s.

Clothing was strewn across the floor and couches, unfinished knitting projects, balls of yarn, her violin, sheet music, occasional cat food, the like. Normally, animals weren’t allowed. Something about “getting too attached.” But of course, Rose found a way to smuggle a cat into her building. A cat.

Said cat nudged Dirk against his leg briefly, smelling him before recognising who he was. 

Dirk sighed. How did his human form ever deal with this?

He pressed his mouth into a thin line. Scraps never know of their Human counterpart, only what their core purpose is and how to survive. There were only two options left for people who have made a scrap. Death without fulfillment of an ultimate goal, or a hollow husk of a human. No emotions, no goals, no hopes, no dreams, no wants, no needs. 

Nothing. Those people are gone. Only a few have ended up like that, ended up as a hollow husk, spewing cryptic shit every once in a while, before their eyes roll back into their head again and they sleep for another couple years before waking up and repeating the cycle. 

It’s a terrifying thing to witness, apparently. 

Dirk sighed and gently bent down to pet the cat, not really wanting to think about it anymore.

**=⇒ Rose: Have an existential crisis.**

That’s a bit of an understatement.

Seeing your dead brother walking on two legs and talking to a random lady certainly incites a certain panic in everyone, whether you’ve had a similarly dead brother who turned into a scrap or not.

Rose’s eyes narrowed in disbelief. 

_Yes, I’ve had Dirk die and turn into a scrap, but I never was quite close with him while he was still Human. But Dave and I were rather close. Now he’s alive._

Rose took a step back from the bank building, eyeing the two figures carefully. When they turned to stop at a pedestrian crossing, Rose got a better glance at Dave’s face. Yes, that was definitely Dave. The swept across blonde hair, the sunglasses, the same ridiculous shirt he always wore, and the same worn jeans and sneakers. He had a scar running across his forehead, which he covered with his bangs after Rose got a glance of them, and he nervously rubbed his neck during the conversation several times.

Was he a scrap? Did he never die?

What was going on?

Rose glanced at her phone.

Dirk would have to wait.

The lady standing next to Dave (rather tall in comparison) had a honey skin tone with short dark brown hair that swept across her forehead and stuck out in a purposeful fashion on both sides. She wore a white T-shirt tucked into a knee-length shimmering Red skirt and dangling earrings. From what Rose could make out, her eyes were a sort of green colour, almost Jade?

Rose squinted her eyes back at her brother and opted to follow at a distance. Crossing the same pedestrian lane a few feet behind them as they idly talked. About what? Rose couldn’t hear over the roaring traffic this early in the morning. She coughed into her hand slightly and brought her scarf up over her mouth as if that would do much.

Eventually, after a minute or two of walking behind them, Dave split up to go into some alleyway between two corners. Unsurprisingly, when Rose turned to check inside the alleyway, Dave wasn’t there. In fact, he was gone. Rose glanced back to the lady, continuing to walk forward.

Rose sighed. _Fine, I suppose._ And continued following her, but a little further behind.

Eventually, the woman walked into her apartment, apparently on the bottom floor. Forgetting to lock the door behind her, Rose slipped in behind her as quietly as she could. The apartment was modest, and much looked like Rose’s if she even bothered to tidy hers up. 

Glancing at the door and then at the woman, walking down the hallway carefully, Rose slipped into the living room, which had no door, only a door frame.

A small mew directed Rose’s attention from the spacious room. Unlike her cat at home, which was noir, this one was a pure white. Rose gently allowed the cat to sniff her, sitting down on the couch in the middle.

**=⇒ Kanaya: Stay Calm**

Kanaya’s eyelids fluttered in surprise upon seeing the strange woman sitting on her couch, petting her cat gently. She looked strangely similar to Dave, but for the life of her, she couldn’t place a name of a face. Did she even know her name? Similar as in they had the same swept platinum blonde hair, hers had a black hairband nestled just where her bangs ended. She wore a striped purple scarf, a simple black shirt tucked into a more flowy skirt with more legroom. 

“Do You Wish To Explain What You Are Doing In My Household?” Kanaya spoke, raising an eyebrow.

“I have no intentions with your house, or your cat for that matter if that’s what is perturbing you.”

“What Is Perturbing Me Is The Fact There Is A Random Stranger Inside My House, Petting my Cat, And Sitting Nonchalantly On My Couch.”

The lady let out a scoff-laugh, not in a mocking way but more with an “I suppose” tone to it. “That’s fair. No, I was merely lounging on your couch, awaiting you so we could have a discussion.”

“Forgive Me, I Have Never Met You Before In My Life, What Do You Wish To Converse About?”

“You were just conversing with my brother. Well, sort of brother. Half brother? Really, I’m not quite sure if he’s still alive or a scrap. Which is why I’m here now, I suppose. To ask about why my brother is suddenly alive.”

“Why Don’t You Ask Him Yourself?” Kanaya replied. 

“I attempted that. He was gone before I could even spark a conversation.”

“Hm,” Kanaya replied simply. “I Do Not Even Know Your Name, How Am I Supposed To Trust The Word Of A Random Stranger?”

The women set Kanaya’s cat aside and stood up gracefully, brushing off her knees and offering her hand.

“Rose Lalonde. My brother is Dave Strider, yes with the different last name it’s a complicated story, and I witnessed him die in my arms, 2 years ago.”

Kanaya blinked and took her hand shaking it, hesitantly. “Kanaya Maryam, I’m Deeply Sorry For Your Loss, My Condolences,”

“Thank you. You might have to retract that statement, however, as to retreat back into what this conversation was originally about.”

“Yes, The Question Of How Am I Supposed To Trust You?”

Rose thought for a moment, crossing her arms. “I suppose you could ask Dave, but he’s likely a scrap, and most Scraps don’t recall their past life unless under extreme circumstances.”

“How About Something Scrap Dave And Human Dave Would Know?”

**== > Rose: Get information out of Kanaya**

Rose snapped her fingers. “So he is a scrap.”

“Yes. However, I Doubt You’d Be Able To Contact Him Without Him Finding You First. He’s A Rather… Jumpy One. Well, Runner. Actually.”

“Is this a test?” She asked cautiously.

“I Suppose. Consider This; If You Fail I Will Call The Selective Guard.”

Rose nodded slowly. “Fair. What do you wish for me to answer?”

“The Question I Posed Earlier. A Thing Scrap Dave And Regular Dave Would Know.”

“How he died or his core purpose,” Rose thought aloud.

Kanaya nodded her head in approval. “Precisely.”

Rose nodded, a grim expression on her face. “He has a scar on the back of his neck, a clean one.” Rose paused for a second, this was obviously an uncomfortable topic for her. She sat down on the couch, and Kanaya followed suit, sitting down on a nearby Armchair. “It was…” She breathed, “Horrific. I found him in a dark alleyway, a stranger with a blade halfway in his throat before he just vanished into thin air. What I heard was that the stranger said was something along the lines of “The Selective is done playing games, this is a war,” and “I’m going to save humanity.””

_Hurried footsteps filled the air, the tapping against the concrete sidewalk loud and hurried._

Kanaya frowned. 

Rose continued, solemnly, “It was terrifying to watch, terrifying to see. I felt as if my insides were about to flip out.” 

_Dave turned around and for an instant, his eyes and the stranger’s locked on each other. His eyes shone in the dark violently. They were anything but human._

Rose let the cat drop out of her lap as her gaze slowly slid down onto the ground. “I have a similar brother- His name is Dirk. We weren’t close when he died, but it affected me all the same. When he became a scrap, I suppose I believed nothing could surprise me anymore.”

_Then a sword plunged into his throat._

_A gasp tore through Dave’s throat as the blade pierced through the back of his neck, farther until the stranger ripped it out, crimson dots splattering across the ground as Dave’s head connected with the concrete._

Rose’s eyebrows creased together further, her eyes clenching shut. “We were only 6.”

Kanaya took a seat on the opposite end of the couch where Rose was sitting. Rose gently let her eyes open, not filled with tears, but rather glazed over the with the memory of finding Dave in that dark alleyway, 2 years ago.

_The stranger stayed silent as if watching the life drain out slowly from Dave’s eyes._

_When he spoke, his voice was raspy, almost as if he’s rarely ever spoken. He spoke in a whisper, menacingly, as if to chill what was left of Dave before he died._

_“Do you know why this happened?”_

Kanaya stood up. “That Is What… Dave Told Me What Happened.”

 _“The Rebellion has been playing games with the Selective. Now we’re playing a game with you.”_

Rose unfurrowed her eyebrows, willing them to relax.

_He grinned, flashing his teeth, “I’m going to save the world.”_

_“Killing….people for….games?”_

_“This isn’t a game anymore, Dave.” He flashed a toothy grin. “This is war.”_

“What Did You Say This Stranger’s Name Was Again?”

_“Who…” Dave whispered out._

_The stranger paused. “Caliborn.”_

Rose breathed a heavy sigh. “Caliborn. I doubt Dave will remember the name, but I remember it clearly enough.”

Kanaya nodded slowly and stood up. “I Suppose You Wish To Get In Contact With Dave.”

Rose nodded. “Yes,” In truth, she hoped to attend the next meeting, after not attending them for almost a year now it appears she was very uninformed of matters. Perhaps she would be able to meet her brother. In-person. 

“I Have His Chum Handle,”

Rose’s lips tilted in a small smile in replacement of a laugh, “Took him long enough to acquire one.”

Kanaya smiled back, scribbling down something on a nearby piece of paper with a pen and handing it to her.

Rose took the piece of paper and read it carefully.

turntechGodhead. 

Rose nodded towards Kanaya and held the paper firmly in her hand. “Thank you, I apologise for breaking into your home unexpectedly.”

Kanaya gestured towards the door. “Oh It Was No Problem, I Haven’t Had Company In A While And You Did Not Turn Out To Be A Selective Member, So All Is Well,” 

Rose let out a light laugh at that and strode out the door behind her. “Thank you.”

Kanaya merely nodded and shut the door behind her.

Rose scanned over the paper in her hands once more, flipping it onto the other side to see

grimAuxiliatrix

written carefully on the back. Rose quirked a smile at the corner of her lips and strode off back towards her apartment.

Dirk had waited long enough.

**=⇒ Dirk: Wonder where Rose was**

There was no more need for that now, Dirk found as Rose opened the door after he waited for 30 minutes for her. “Hello again. I see you made a few detours,” He gestured towards the clock and the paper in her hand.

She nodded. “Quite.” With a few strides forward, she dug out of her pocket a handful of ’20s, enough to buy food to sustain himself for the rest of the month. “Don’t spend all of it immediately,” Rose suggested.

Dirk nodded and carefully took it from her. “I’ll attempt. Thank you once again.”

Rose nodded. “Be careful.”

Dirk nodded. “Of course.”

He opened the door to Rose’s porch, and lifted himself off the porch, flipping onto a porch nearby and hopefully able to get to the market place in time and get out as quickly as possible. 

**=⇒ Jake English: Do a thing.**

Why this young gentleman is already doing a thing! He’s most certainly doing a thing, on his way to do another thing, after completing said thing he is doing!

Jake breathed a heavy sigh. That made no sense.

Jake rubbed under his glasses tiredly, watching the people stroll through the marketplace slowly and calmly as he dragged a hand down his face, bored. He sat on a bench somewhere near the main food markets, forcing himself to sit through this moment of boredom that hung over him. 

Jake lay his head on his hands, staring at the crowd through half-lidded eyes and a dazed expression as if staring at the scene in front of him would make something interesting happen.

He knew it wouldn’t, but golly, a chap could hope in times of distress!

Or… boredom…

He pushed himself off the dusty old park bench and started out of the marketplace. Exiting into an uncrowded street, he pushed himself to get back home. 

He was at the point where he would take a nap for fun.

A NAP.

School was more fun than the tedious tasks of adulthood, Jake admitted to himself. At least school drama happened! Now the most interesting thing Jake does is go grocery shopping once a month.

Jake stepped into a Starbucks. He needed the caffeine to get through the day, and by golly, if he was going to let something as silly as “healthy diets” get in the way!

“Joke English,” called the person behind the counter, looking as, if not more, tired than Jake.

He winced, strode up to the counter, and tried to smile. He was sure it came out as more of a grimace.

“That’s me! Thanks for the drink chap, may I just say how fa-” 

“Yeah yeah, just take the drink,” The boy cut him off, shoving the drink in Jake’s face, “Next.”

Taking the drink before it splashed all over him, Jake stepped back and walked out the door. He hated when people mispronounced his name like that. He knew his handwriting was bad, but it wasn’t illegible, dagnabbit!

He stepped onto a less used path, eager to get away from the crowds. Living as alone as he did, he wasn’t very used to dealing with people. He looked down at his hands as he did, he had the most peculiar feeling that he was forgetting something. He really should start using coloured rings to he-

_SLAM_

A body rammed into Jake, spilling the coffee all over him. Jake hissed at the sudden pain and quickly pulled back. The stranger retracted quickly and seemingly blew past Jake in an orange blur. As Jake reeled his mind back in, he glanced towards the way the orange blur had gone.

But there was nothing. It was as if he had bumped into the air. Jake’s eyes lowered, near-certain he wasn’t going insane quite yet. It’s not like he was bored enough for his mind to be playing tricks on him.

Was he?

Jake glanced in the way the streak disappeared, back to the marketplace.

He sighed, he didn’t have anything better to do.

Strolling back the way he came with a bit of a hurried pace, he quickly rounded the corner back into the bustling marketplace, scanning through the crowd for any orange streaks or someone that looked like they would stick out in a crowd.

His eyes caught on a couple people, but no orange streaks. Frustratedly, he gripped his coffee cup a bit tighter and turned to exit the market place once more before his eyes hooked onto someone.

Squinting, Jake semi adjusted his glasses to make sure he was seeing correctly. Said person had golden blonde hair, sticking up in what seemed to be unnatural angles. A leather jacket covered the shirt he was wearing underneath. Worn jeans ending just above the ankle and worn black sneakers.

Jake couldn’t place what it was about this figure that struck him so randomly, but something did. Maybe it was the pointy shades, maybe it was the unusual outfit. Maybe it was the fact he had a KATANA. ON HIS BACK.

Jake’s eyebrows furrowed in as he recoiled a bit. Carrying weapons was strictly illegal and highly enforced. Especially out in public. How did this stranger even get here without being shot on sight?

The stranger handed some money to someone, grabbed a bag or two of food and dashed off. Almost as if...

In a blur.

Jake caught sight of the blur, and discarded his coffee in a nearby bin, rushing to follow the blur, even if only with his eyes.

Nonetheless, he could barely keep up.

How was it that nobody saw the Katana? How was it that nobody saw the blur of motion? How was it he was only seen while standing still.

How was it that Jake was the only one who could see him?

Curiosity overwhelmed his senses as he pushed to follow the general direction of the blur.

Then the blur just disappeared. Vanished from Jake’s vision. Grunting, Jake placed his hands on his knees and allowed a moment for his lungs to fill with air once again, as he struggled against the urge to just collapse. He hadn’t run that fast for that long for something non-life threatening in quite a while.

The fact he had done this before only served to make Jake shudder, a tremor sprinting up his spine, gone as quick as it came.

He didn’t feel like reminiscing. Not now.

“It’s been quite a while since I met a human who could see me.”

Jake’s eyes lifted towards the top of a building where the blonde stranger from the marketplace sat, swinging his legs idly.

“Crikey! You scared the living daylights out of me, stranger!” Jake let out a breathy laugh, still fighting to regain his breath.

“I suppose that’s a reaction that seems to be common when I pull the same stunt. Even from those who actually know me.”

“Well, of course, it would! You snuck up on me unlike any bugger has for ages!”

“That sentence made little to no sense.”

“My language mannerisms are quite refined, you just don’t have the proper taste.”

The stranger seemed to roll his eyes and shifted in his sitting position a bit. “I believe myself to have taste enough for the world, much less language mannerisms.”

Jake dramatically rolled his eyes and stood back up, placing his hands on his hips and staring up at the stranger. “I don’t even know your name,”

“Suppose that’s for the better.” He replied merely. “However it would serve better for both of us for me to ask you who you are.”

Jake scoffed. “You do not tell me your name yet you expect my name? Old chap I think your sense needs a little fixing.”

“My sense is fine.”

“Then I will not humour you until you at least tell me your name.”

The stranger sighed and dragged a hand down his face slowly, relenting. “Dirk.”

“What?” Jake called.

“Dirk Strider. That’s my name.”

“Well, Dirk Strider, what a nice name! I’m Jake English.”

Dirk probably rolled his eyes, but then again, Jake couldn’t tell if he tried from under those shades.

“Well then, tell me Jake English, how is it you were able to keep up with me? Much less see me?”

“I ran and used my eyes, chap. That’s all there is to it.”

“Yes, it's almost as if you had done it before. But why?”

“Well it’s rather common sense, you see a random blur on the street you’re either curious or scared and you don’t seem like too scary of a fellow.”

Dirk barked out a laugh at that. “

“That’s fair.”

Dirk moved to stand up. “It was nice talking to you, Jake English, but please do not ever do that again.”

“Do what again? Follow you?”

“Yes, and any other blurs you might happen upon in the city. You’ll only end up in something unpleasant. Word of advice.”

Jake rolled his eyes. “Looking out for me already? My, save it for the first date.”

Dirk audibly scoffed at that. “Go get yourself a new coffee, and perhaps stop following danger when you see it.”

Before Jake could open his mouth to respond, Dirk was gone again. No blurs, just gone in the wink of an eye.

Jake sighed and stared down at his shirt, stained with coffee.

He grunted and walked back slowly to the coffee shop.

Telling someone not to follow them is only going to make them want to follow you more.

**=⇒ Dirk: Berate yourself.**

“How could I be so stupid?” Dirk nearly shouted once he closed the door behind him. Flipping off his jacket angrily, he strolled into the kitchen and lied a hand on his forehead, discarding his glasses onto the kitchen counter. He set his grocery bags down and leaned against the countertop. “I’ve become sloppy and now ordinary humans with no scrap relations can see me.”

He grunted in frustration. “Jake English? Really? What kind of person has a last name named after The Main Language,” Still, he glanced at his computer, resting quietly in the corner. He had the clients and even knew the people he could contact to learn more about this Jake kid.

He slapped himself internally. He was being curious. Curiosity never helped anyone.

Against his better judgement, he pulled up a stool and sat by the computer in the corner, logging in quickly, fingers flying against the keyboard before he could stop himself.

Then this random dude’s files were opened up and Dirk felt like even more of an idiot.

This guy has had run-ins with the table of officials in the Selective. Not the High leader herself, but quite a few of the others on the table.

Dirk lay his hands on the back of his head and scanned the file.

Slapping himself internally once more, he exited out of the tab and instead opened pesterchum, looking to distract himself with the abnormal encounter.

TT: Roxy. 

This user is offline!

TT: Roxy.

This user is offline!

TT: Roxy.

This user is offline!

TT: Roxy, I know you are able to read this.

This user is offline!

TT: You’re always online, ghosting me finally?

This user is offline!

TT: Has the day arrived when Roxy LaLonde finally gets sick of me?

This user is help offline!

TT: Roxy?

This u-selective e r is offli g ot AA ne!

TT: Aradia? Roxy are you alright?

Burning.

TT: Oh.

This user is off hurry line!

TT: Oh, fuck.

Just as she wrote that, Sollux suddenly flashed online, immediately pestering Dirk.

TT: Aradia and Roxy.

TA: ii know. that2 what ii came on here two talk about.

TA: well, more liike iinform you that ii talked two a few of the other2 and we’re holdiing an emergency meetiing tomorrow.

TA: 22, 56

TT: Got it. I’ll be there.

TA: ii don’t have dave2 handle.

TT: It’s turntechGodhead, and I will inform him. I thought he wasn’t allowed into these kinds of meetings?

TA: normally not but maybe iit2 tiime we let hiim iin, ju2t a little biit.

TT: Even after what he pulled with Vantas?

TA: ii already per2onally talked two hiim about iit.

TT: Understood.

Dirk ran a hand down his face carefully. If he wasn’t so opposed to alcohol, seeing what it did to Roxy, who’s still a relatively new scrap (20, but only a scrap for 2 years, alike dave. Scraps count their age by which the age they died + how long they’ve been a scrap. The age in which they died is scribbled at the top of the rings on their arms. Scraps have until 200, and then they’re gone. For real.) he'd likely have a drink right now. He shuddered at the thought and closed his laptop, not quite in the mood for much else today.

He’d just work on more idle robotics projects until he passed out. Or something.

~

Daylight flowed in through the curtains. Dirk stirred and rose slowly, collapsed onto the kitchen counter, resting his head on his crossed arms, some scrap metal scattered on the counter. He sighed and pushed himself up, glancing at the time on his phone.

They were to meet at 22, 56. Or, 10 o’clock PM, building 56 in the same residence they’re always in. Apparently, Sollux didn’t want to use the usual meeting spot.

Dirk sighed and pushed his phone back into his pocket. It was noon now, and there wasn’t too much to do for today.

~

Then it was 10pm all too quickly, and Dirk was slipping on his regular set of attire. You know, the leather jacket and the tank top.

He sprung off his porch and fell until his hands grasped the metal pole of his neighbour's porch fence, falling lightly from there onto the ground with a smooth landing. He brushed off his knees and jumped onto a nearby balcony, slowly making his way higher until he was atop the rooftops once more, watching the lights from beyond the horizon go out and even farther past that. The dome truly was larger than most could imagine.

Directing his attention to making his way to the meeting place. It was still a while away, even with Dirk’s speed. The wind was fresh against his skin, smoothing past him and blowing his hair back. Even though it was hard to see, and even though he was underwater, it was still hard not to appreciate the peaceful air of the night. During the day the air felt thick, caked with people worrying and rushing and doing the unpleasant things in life, but at night, everyone got time to just relax.

Dirk would be lying if he said he didn’t get a rush out of it.

After about 10 minutes of straight running and jumping, even Dirk himself felt a bit exhausted. But he eventually spotted the rural part of the city on the very edge of a deserted part of the bubble. It was exactly south to the Selective's main building, a purposeful move to get them as far away from the selective as possible in case anything happens. Plus, nobody came here, ever. Nobody.

Most people live in the centre of the glass dome. The Selective chooses your housing arrangements, and for whatever reason, they choose to put everyone into a cluttered pile in the middle of the dome. As you venture farther from the city centre, less and less people live closer together. Go south of the city centre and you get to a completely abandoned part of the city. 

That’s why it’s the perfect meeting area.

Dirk hopped down from the building he was on, flinging himself onto a porch and opening the door into a particularly rusty looking building. It wasn’t by far the nicest looking or the worst looking. The building itself didn’t stand out.

Another purposeful move.

Dirk opened the door of the balcony and strolled into the cleaned inside, a contrast from the exterior of the building. Rounding a corner, he walked into a room labelled ‘56’ and was met with a startling few number of faces. Suppose not everyone can attend an emergency meeting, either that or Sollux only called a handful of the actual amount of people in the rebellion officially.

“Riight on tiime.” Sollux nodded, standing at the end of a large table.

“As always.”

Sollux nodded towards the rest of the table as Dirk closed the door behind him.

Dave stood in the corner on the opposite side of the room where Dirk stood. His arms crossed and leaning against the corner in an almost “””cool way””””.

“No Vantas yet?” Dirk remarked, finding his place on the wall behind an empty chair meant for him. He’d rather stand.

Sollux shook his head. “He 2aiid he’d thiink about iit. Don’t know iif he’2 had tiime two do that exactly, but iit2 not the maiin focu2 of thii2 meetiing.”

After finishing that sentence, Sollux slapped down a newspaper. Most people have never seen a newspaper in their life. News here is spread through the TV. However, they, the Selective, frame their stories to leave out crucial parts, which is where these newspapers come from. Mostly unbiased authors that tell the real story. They’re extremely difficult to come by, rarely anyone produces them, and they’re one of the higher levels of illegal. Plus, they’re only produced on rare occasions. This was one of them. 

The headline was something useless as if to disguise stray readers. Everyone else knew where to find the actual stories.

“Three 2crap2 goiing two be burned tomorrow a2 a giiant ‘Fuck You’ two the rebelliion. Ii2 thii2 a battle or ii2 thii2 a war?” Sollux read aloud. He slapped it back down onto the table, allowing anyone that wants to read it be able to. “Roxy, Niico and Aradiia.” His voice nearly choked up on Aradia. Those two were arguably the closest here. Almost an inside joke at this point, how long the two have pined after each other. But now was not the time for jokes.

Burning was the only way to kill a scrap.

“We have two do 2omethiing.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Dave spoke up.

Sollux shot him a glare. “What’re you giving me that glare for? It’s obvious we need to get them outta there. Question is how and where.”

The murmuring previously hushed now came to a halt as everyone seemed to adopt a contemplative look on their faces.

“I can get a map of inside t) (e Selective,” Feferi tried.

Sollux nodded, slowly. “Can you get iit by tomorrow?”

Feferi nodded. “I can get it once t) (is meeting is over! I can drop it off and w) (oever is going inside can…” Feferi paused, “review it.”

A grim cloud hung over the meeting. That’s right, people would actually need to go in to get them out, obviously. But it seemed that realization had waited until now to sink its claws into the handful of people here.

“I’ll go.” Dirk volunteered nonchalantly. “I’ve had my run-ins with the Selective. I know how to deal with them.” Nobody opposed, as expected.

"Ii 2uppo2e iit2 faiirly obviiou2 ii’ll be goiing.” Sollux remarked.

Nobody spoke up for a while. Two people weren’t enough.

“I’ll go,” Dave spoke up eventually.

Dirk’s eyebrows lowered. “You’re inexperienced.”

"So were all of us at some point. I’ve been in the Rebellion for over a year now and I haven’t done jackshit. We have the same abilities. If anyone should be able to work together best, it’s us.”

Nobody countered that. “C’mon man. You can’t have me do nothing for the next 200 years.”

“It’s highly dangerous. We’re not just playing do-sie-do with the Selective, or gathering information. We’re going inside that building, and risking quite a bit to get three people out.”

“I know what we’re going to do.”

Feferi interrupted. “If it ) (elps, I can try to distract the guards w) (ile you guys are working on getting everyone out?”

Sollux nodded, glancing at Dirk. “You 2aw what he could do iin hii2 human form. Even before gaiiniing an abiiliity. He need2 two regaiin that 2omehow.”

Dirk dragged a hand down his face. “This is ridiculous,”

“T) (is is t) (e best plan we ) (ave,” Feferi spoke.

Dirk sighed. “Alright. But I’m no mentor.”

“I’m not expecting you to be,” Dave remarked.

Sollux sighed. “Now that that2 2ettled. When ii2 the burniing?”

“Noon, tomorrow,” Feferi replied.

Sollux rubbed his forehead. “2o we 2hould get them out when 11? 10?”

“W) (at about daybreak? T) (at’s w) (en guards switc) ( out.”

Dirk nodded, “Daybreak then?”

Sollux nodded. “Before then. 2o we can reviiew plan2.”

There was a pause, before Sollux glanced down the table. "That2 all, dii22mii22ed." 

Everyone took that as a sign to leave, collectively pushing their chairs back and shuffling quietly out of the door. Some talking with each other, some of the scraps flashing away and whatnot.

Feferi remained seated, and Dave and Dirk remained in the corner and on the wall, respectively. Sollux sighed and sat down rubbing his forehead.

“We get iin, we get tho2e three, we get out. No wa2tiing time, no unnece22ary fiightiing, thii2 ii2 a re2cue mii22iion, not a fiight 2cene iin a moviie.”

Everyone nodded. “Feferii, do what you can but don’t get caught.”

Feferi smiled. “I won't get caug) (t.”

Sollux nodded and stood up. “Good.”

Feferi walked out after him. Dave lounged in the corner for a second, before flash stepping away, leaving Dirk alone in the room. He stood quietly against the wall before pushing himself off and running his hand against the table.

He glanced around the room carefully, before silently making his way towards the light switch and sealing the room into darkness.

He walked outside normally, no swinging across porches, no somersaulting onto building’s rooftops, normal walking outside. Most of everyone had cleared out by now, leaving Dirk alone on the streets.

It was quiet. No city lights illuminating the streets artificially, no people bustling and talking loudly. Not a soul to be seen, or a sound to be heard. 

Peaceful.

**== > ???: Save Earth.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A chapter that wasn't updated after a two month hiatus???  
> woooaaaahhhh????
> 
> Alright anyways, I dont have much to say, just thanks for reading and as always, see you in the next update!  
> Comments are always appreciated!

**Author's Note:**

> sahfbreuib thanks for reading!


End file.
